


Words Apart

by kuroganeattacksquad



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Bodyswap, Crying, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Drinking, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oral Sex, Post-Canon, Reconciliation, Reconciliation Sex, Rough Sex, Separation Anxiety, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25903894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroganeattacksquad/pseuds/kuroganeattacksquad
Summary: In a foreign world, Kurogane searches for his friends and discovers the secrets that led him to switch bodies with Fai.Takes place after World Chronicle.My submission for the 2020 KuroFai Olympics.
Relationships: Fay D. Fluorite/Kurogane
Comments: 21
Kudos: 35
Collections: 2020 KuroFai Olympics - Fluff vs Angst





	1. Broken soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who ran and participated in the KuroFai 2020 Olympics on DreamWidth. My favourite time of year :) 
> 
> This takes place after the current point in World Chronicle. It miiiight not match up with the canon.
> 
> Due to my poor planning, I was only able to do a quick review. If you notice any inconsistencies... just go with it :'D
> 
> Enjoy~

Switching between worlds had settled in as a new normalcy for Kurogane. The whirls of colours, the feeling of being sucked out his body had all become commonplace. That's why it was especially embarrassing for him when he fainted as soon as Mokona ejected them. 

Green stained glass had dominated the kaleidoscope of colour, spinning with a nauseating force that strained Kurogane into closing his eyes. A mistake. 

When he opened his eyes, he was on his back, looking up at a sun-dappled canopy of interlacing branches, heavy with needles and leaves in the shape of tear-drops. 

Kurogane had passed out before – from fights gone wrong and nights gone far, far too right. So it wasn't surprising that his body had a heavy, foreign weight to it. The pain in his chest, though, needed to be assessed right away. A broken soldier was nothing but a burden. 

He absently pulled at his shirt, stopped when he found nothing in its place. Buttons appeared where there should be smooth fabric. His fingertips scratched at wool instead of a silk-blend. 

Careful when lifting his head, he looked down. His clothing was black as midnight; the clothes he was wearing were a familiar blue. With sharp movements, Kurogane quickly took off the clothing that covered his torso and stared down at himself. 

Kurogane knew this skin. He had kissed it under the Nihon moon and caressed it during warm nights in Nirai Kanai. If he was here, in these clothes and this body, where was Fai?

Where was anyone? All around him were trees, so ancient and tall that their branches didn't start emerging until well above Kurogane's head. Birds fluttered from branch to branch, occasionally diving up to become lost in the leafy cover. The forest floor was made of gentle rolls covered in moss, dotted by the odd bush fighting against the massive trees for sunlight.

Kurogane ran a hand over his chest where the pain was. Over his left breast was a hole. It was big enough and in the correct location to be a fatal wound. But, despite the pain, Kurogane still felt well enough to stand up. He touched it and immediately flinched back. Tender. 

“Is anyone here?” He called out. “Syaoran, Sakura, Mokona, Fai. Hell, Kurogane?”

Silence.

Finding no point in staying where he was, he dressed himself again and started walking. 

He spooled out from the spot where he woke up in an unwinding spiral, searching for evidence. a broken twig, some small plants that had been trampled on. The birds found seats in the trees to watch him, chirping on. Finally, he found a perfect footprint pressed into the moss. Smaller than his own and made by short, quick strides. He determined what direction the toes were pointing in and set off in a straight line. 

The trees began to thin and grow shorter. More bushes emerged, thick with berries that had already been picked over. Beyond that, a clearing. Beyond that, a village. 

Kurogane stopped at the edge of the forest to survey the small town. The houses were all wood and thick stone, pulled far away from the forest at the bottom of a slope. Each had a small plot of land overgrown with spring vegetables. The town was already in motion, people milling in the centre where the houses were closest together. He just caught the sounds of hooves and the jangle of bells from the necks of livestock; children screaming in laughter and their mothers calling them in. The sun was low and the chimneys were smoking lazily in preparation for dinner. 

He stayed back in the dim of the forest, watching until the shadows grew longer and village activity started to dwindle. Then he shoulder Fai's bag and entered the village proper.

There weren't many people left on the narrow streets. Kurogane found his way to the centre of the town, trying not to make it too obvious that he was stealing quick glances in the small windows, searching for his missing friends. In a way, he was lucky to have woken up in Fai's body. By fate of his chosen profession, Kurogane had transformed himself into a shadow with his looming presence, black cloak and headband to obscured his eyes. The people here looked more like Fai with their light skin and yellow hair. They layered coats on top of vests on top of shirts. With their wide smiles and open joy, Kurogane wondered for a moment if this was Celes, before King Ashura came to wreck everything with a gentle smile. 

Not likely. You could take both of Kurogane's eyes, cut off his hands and lame his legs and he would still know when he was back in Nihon. Home is known with the body and soul. And Kurogane wasn't picking up on any reactions by Fai's body to this new world.

He turned the corner and literally bumped into a man coming the opposite way. Kurogane reached out to steady him, preventing him from falling or dropping the covered basket he was carrying. The man let out a soft cry, more surprised than upset. When he had gathered himself he gave Kurogane a quick, curious glance. “Whoa there! Where are you from? Are you new to Stigastr?” he said.

Of course. Without Mokona around to act as a real-time translator, Kurogane wouldn't be able to communicate. Shit, he should have thought of this earlier. Still, he understood enough of the words to construct complete sentences in his head. These people looked like Fai. Maybe it was like their time in Yasha, when the Yashian language was close enough to Kurogane's for him to communicate. More so for Fai, whose magic was based on Celes scripture. 

“I'm visiting,” he tried.

The man frowned and nodded. He was trying, at least. He waved a hand, encompassing the village. “Do you have a place to stay?”

“No.”

The man lit up. He spoke quickly, half to himself. He started walking away, indicating that Kurogane should follow. 

The man led them to a small house near the clearing. He stuck his head in the house long enough to deposit the basket and yell instructions at whomever was inside. Then he prodded Kurogane forward again.

“I'm Darby,” the man said, placing a hand on his chest. 

Kurogane pointed a finger at himself and said, “Kurogane.” He immediately regretted it. What if the others were looking for him under Fai's name? He was in a damned situation however it was cut.

The man rolled his name around in his mouth thoughtfully. He spared another glance at Kurogane's outfit, the blue and white winter uniform of Celes soldiers.

“You're from the North?” Darby tried.

“Yes,” Kurogane replied instantly. It was as close to the truth as he was willing to get at this point. 

“Ah,” Darby said as though that explained everything.

They arrived at another house, this one set on the gentle slope up to the forest at an almost reckless angle. There were no lights inside, no smoke from the chimney.

Darby opened the door. No lock either, it seemed. He entered the house before Kurogane, throwing aside the drapes to let in the last of the weak sunlight. He opened the cupboards, too, showing limited clay bowls and plates. A handkerchief was divulged from his pocket and, as he moved around, he absently wiped off a thick layer of dust from the table, the chairs, the door frames. He showed Kurogane around the small main room with its wood fireplace, table, chairs and couch, the two bedrooms tucked in the back and the toilet in between. 

Kurogane nodded at Darby's quiet excitement as though this was quite an accomplishment. Throughout the many, many worlds they'd visited, this place ranked in the middle. Sure there was indoor plumbing, but Kurogane was more than a little disappointed that there wasn't a Princess Piffle My Butler Meal Maker. 

The end of the tour found them in the main room. Darby spoke more, peppered with words that Kurogane half-understood. Finally, he looked at Kurogane expectantly.

“Nice,” Kurogane said. He was leaning against the table. When he came away his hand was covered with dust. “Very nice,” he added as he discreetly wiped the dust off on Fai's coat. 

“Belonged to my grandparents,” Darby said. He made a gesture, passing his thumb from the crest of his head to his sternum, like he was summoning magic. But nothing happened. 

It had all the amenities Kurogane needed if he was planning on staying. And, until he found everyone, he had no plans on leaving this area. The way Darby was sticking around, though, made it clear that he expected something in return for renting out his grandparents' home.

Fai was their money person. He had a way of quickly learning what passed as currency in a country and finding a way of exploiting it, often with Sakura's unwitting assistance. But, as Kurogane was painfully aware, Fai wasn't there right now.

Kurogane stuck his hand in the pockets of Fai's coat, hoping for a miracle. His fingers found what felt like sharp pebbles and brought them out, curious. Tiny violet shards caught the light. It was a gem from the last world they had visited – or rather, what was left of it. His heartstone had broken, fractured into pieces. 

Darby's eyes went wide. “Is that from the mountain?”

“I don't know the word for this,” Kurogane answered truthfully. He dumped the shards into Darby's waiting palm. 

Darby swore. Apologized. Looked at the pile of gem shards in his hand and swore again. His giddiness made it very apparent that Kurogane had overpaid for a dirty cottage. This is why he needed Fai around.

“Papa?” came a voice from the entry way. Two girls, the same age as Syaoran and Sakura, stood at the open door. The taller one, older by a couple years, was waiting with a basket. Her gaze flicked over Kurogane in the same studious way Darby's had earlier. 

Slightly behind her was a younger sister. Where the older sister was neatly dressed in pants, a clean shirt and vest with half her hair twisted up in braids, the younger was wearing hand-me-downs with small rips that had been neatly stitched. Whatever hair escaped her ponytail, she blew out of her face noisily. 

The younger sister looked at Kurogane. She immediately dropped the heavy load of wood she was carrying, the twine coming undone and losing a log. 

“Fiske,” her father admonished. “You need to be more careful. You're making a mess.”

“It was heavy,” Fiske said. She eyed her sister's basket. “Unlike some people who are only carrying a loaf of bread.”

“And a pot of soup,” the older one corrected. “I made the soup, I get to carry the soup. Maybe if you did more than chop wood, you'd be trusted with more responsibility.”

“It's only soup.” Fiske rolled her eyes.

“Girls, please. Ah, I know what will get you to stop fighting. A reward for your hard work.” Darby gave each of his daughters a splinter of the heartstone. 

The older sister exclaimed as she held it up. “I'm going to ask Brant to fashion this into a hair clip!”

“Really? Not a wedding ring?” Fiske said.

Her sister yelled and drew her fist back. 

“Kensley, please.” Darby took the basket from her before she dropped it in the fight. “We finally have a guest. I'm counting on your help.”

Kensley was properly mollified. “Yes, papa.”

“Good. And Fiske, I'll need help from you, too.”

Fiske said nothing, her face wooden. Her fingers folded around her shard of heartstone. 

“Kensley has brought you dinner for tonight,” Darby said to Kurogane, showing him the contents of the basket. A loaf of bread wrapped in a hand towel, warmed from sitting on a pot of creamy soup. “Tomorrow, the girls will be back to give this place a good cleaning. No one's lived here in a while, as you can tell.”

“What about water?” Kurogane asked. 

“The pipes here are good for washing, and that's all. There's a well in town that's safe to drink from. I'll have Fiske deliver a cask of it tonight.”

“I can't. I'm busy,” Fiske said.

“With what?.”

Fiske shrugged half-heartedly. She was looking out the open door. 

“Fiske and her mysterious adventures,” Kensley huffed. “I'll bring the water.”

Darby's mouth was a thin line. He was clearly well-versed in the art of having two teenage-aged daughters and knew when to give up a fight. He spared a glance at Fiske before addressing Kurogane one last time. “One more thing. Don't go in the forest.”

That got the attention of everyone in the cottage. Kensley paused in setting the table for Kurogane's dinner. Even Fiske, who was half out the door, waited.

“Only at night,” Kurogane said, seeking clarification.

Darby shook his head. “Ever. Some people are able to go a little ways into the Bonewood for foraging. But we have another forest south of here that's less dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Kurogane repeated.

“There's magic in that forest,” Darby went on. He paused and both he and Kensley made that same strange gesture from before. “There's faeries that trick folk, turn them round and round and spit them back out again.”

“Gulbrand went in,” Kensley said, a tad too excited. “He said that he was being called on a mythical quest. He came out again three weeks later, butt-naked and acting like a loon!”

“She means literally,” Fiske added dryly. “He thought he was waterfowl.”

“And he never did find that sword,” Kensley choked out between laughs.

“We can joke about Gulbrand because he's fine now,” Darby said to his daughters. “When I was a child, the men who had fought in the wars across the ocean came back. One of the warriors went into the Bonewood, looking for a fight. He never came back again.”

That sobered Kensley up. Until Fiske said, “Remember the feathers Gulbrand had stuck to his back?” and then Kensley exploded in laughter again.

Darby sighed. He met Kurogane's eyes. “Kids.”

“Wouldn't know,” Kurogane said. The only kids he knew were Sakura and Syaoran, and they were almost supernaturally well-behaved. 

Darby ushered his daughters out of the cottage, calling a good-night back to Kurogane. 

Kurogane closed the door, found the latch and threw it down. While the fire began to bloom in the fireplace, he drew the drapes. 

Fai kept a mirror in his bag. Kurogane took it out now and studied it. 

When Kurogane emerged from the shadows, his looks hit as hard a punch. He knew he scowled – Fai told him often enough. Like a rock ledge about to drop, he had told him. Kurogane didn't see the issue with that.

Fai's beauty had a terrible, fleeting quality to it, not unlike a glimpse of a deer before it turned tail and darted away. The lines to his body were long and lean and the angles to his face were precious. He presented himself nothing like the soldier he was, giving long-lashed looks to distract as he conjured little lies from his sweetly smiling lips. Kurogane was hopelessly in love with that with that face.

In the weak firelight, he shed his clothes, the coat, the sash, the jacket, the sleeveless shirt with tails, the long gloves, both sets of pants and long boots. He stared at the fine bones of his hands. He ran his hands down his torso, feeling the spaces between his ribs, the slim muscles of his thighs and calves. How many times had he done this to Fai in the still hours of the night? 

Greedy, Fai would say as Kurogane touched every inch of him he could hold. He would lay himself out, giving into Kurogane's pleasures, demanding his own in turn. When their bodies met, when they shared the same breath and their heartbeats twinned the other, Kurogane felt he and Fai were one. And now?

This was a farce of what they had been. Because with Kurogane in Fai's body, Fai was...

Who knows?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please vote!
> 
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> Username: Kuroganeattacksquad  
>  Fic: Fluff - Bodyswap - Kuroganeattacksquad
> 
> Thanks!!


	2. Our hero, Mokona

Fai turned to Kurogane and said, “We'd better get going. The kids are already at it.”

Kurogane didn't budged. He had watched Mokona, Sakura and Syaoran leave. Now that it was the two of them, he hesitated.

“What?” Fai asked.

“This isn't a good idea,” Kurogane said. “We shouldn't separate.”

“Where were you a minute ago when I was telling Mokona that?” Fai rolled his eyes. “You worry too much. Not being in each others' constant presence for an hour won't kill us. Oh,” Fai said, reading Kurogane's face as clearly as he did a book. “You think it might.”

“I think you'll take the fastest way to get back here, even if it means running into danger.”

“I survived hundreds of years without a ninja guarding my back.” Fai was trying for playful. Kurogane wasn't exactly helping the agitation that had festered against his chest ever since Yuuko announced their quest. “I'll be fine.”

Kurogane snorted. He was annoyed, too. He turned his back on Fai, cape billowing out behind him. “You'd be lost without me.”

Watching him go, Fai had a horrible thought.

~~~

Kurogane's stomach growling woke him up. He had gone to bed without dinner, curled up in a miserable ball in the biggest bedroom at the back.

Of course he ignored his stomach to check the other parts of his anatomy. He was still in Fai's body, long, pale limbs that gratefully stretched as he uncurled. He wasn't as sore as he usually was upon waking; Kurogane attributed that to Fai's enthusiastic daily stretching routine that he often forced Syaoran to participate in. Syaoran had become better with the sword, his movements faster and his reach wider. Maybe Kurogane should start participating in morning stretches.

After he found Fai and the kids.

Kensley had left two casks of water outside the door, along with a covered bowl of porridge that was still warm. He must have missed their knocking at the door that morning. Kurogane took it all inside. He ate the porridge, thick and milky and scattered with tiny, purple berries.

The stove was lit with the wood Fiske had dropped unceremoniously on the floor and Kurogane set a large pot of water and the smaller pot of stew from the previous night on the stove top. While he waited for both to heat, he continued the job of dusting the cottage that Darby had started the day before.

When the pot of water began to steam pleasantly, he took it to the kitchen sink and awkwardly bathed himself standing up, careful not to drip water on the ground. He redressed in Fai's clothes – the pants, the knee-high boots, the sleeveless shirt with tails, the long gloves. The dewy morning might have prompted a light jacket, but it was warm enough in the cottage with the fire going for Kurogane to forego it.

He ate the stew as a second breakfast with half the loaf of bread. After washing the dishes in the water leftover from bathing and setting them on the rack to dry, Kurogane looked around the room. One night and one morning by himself, and he had already found a place in this new world where they could all stay. Not bad for a ninja in a magician's body.

A knock at the door brought him out of his self-congratulating reverie. It was Darby and Kensley, with more covered baskets. Kurogane imagined that their home must be decorated with them in abundance.

“Good morning,” Darby said, with the cheerfulness of a man who was up at sunrise to milk the goats and collect chicken eggs.

Also buoyed with a sense of accomplishment, Kurogane returned his salutations.

“There's a smile,” said Darby, coming into the cottage. “You were so depressed and tired yesterday. I knew all you needed was a good rest and better food.”

“Your hospitality certain has helped.”

Kensley was already at work emptying the baskets and boiling more water for cleaning.

“What village is this?” Kurogane asked.

Darby shook his head good-naturedly. He was rooting through a backpack larger than his torso. “Not many come to Stigastr. Even less who don't know it exists!”

“I got lost,” Kurogane said truthfully. He mentally kicked himself when he realized that he had echoed the words Darby used to describe people who went into the forest. From an abundance of experience travelling through worlds, Kurogane knew that it was better for strangers like his party to separate themselves from the supernatural as much as possible in order to escape the prejudice that came with it. Unless they needed the attention that would bring.

Darby didn't seem to notice. “You should be careful out there. It's easy to get criss-crossed when all the trees look alike. Though wolves don't give us much trouble, it's always better to lie in your own bed at night than to make do on the grass. Here!”

From his backpack, Darby divested bundles of clothes, once neatly folded, now obviously wrinkled. He shook out trousers of various lengths, some coloured shirts and vests as well as garments Kurogane recognized as underwear and socks from his previous experiences in other worlds.

“Don't know how long you're staying...”

Kurogane didn't supply an answer.

“... but I figured you might want something else to wear than that uniform.” Darby picked a pair of trousers dyed a deep indigo and paired it with a sky blue shirt and vest made from doe hide. “Thought this would do you nicely. There's more here if you don't like that. My wife was a working woman of great substance,” Darby said proudly. “Between her and me, we'll get you dressed.”

Kurogane went into the bedroom to change. The room was the biggest, with a bed covered in a intricately sewn quilt, dresser and even a writing desk. A single window gave a view of the shifting tall trees of the Bonewood.

Darby gasped when he emerged. He fussed a bit, untucking the shirt, contrary to what Kurogane assumed was the custom, and retying the hefty rope that served as a belt. “You look nothing like her, of course,” Darby said, his voice thick. “She was a hard worker. She'd be happy to see her clothes still at work.”

“They fit fine,” Kurogane said. “Thank you.”

“I'm jealous,” Kensley said, looking up from the mountain of cushions she had gathered from the couch to be beaten. “Blue suits your colouring more than mine. I'll be stuck wearing father's hand-me-downs for the rest of my life!”

“You say that like it's a bad thing,” Darby said. He stuck out a foot. “I'll have you know that I knitted these socks when I was your age. And not a single tear. You're lucky to inherit such quality.”

Since he was closest, Kurogane hurried to open the door for Kensley who had her hands full. The door opened an inch, then was forcibly closed.

“Hold on,” said a voice from the other side. There was a minor commotion, then Fiske opened the door. “You almost hit me.”

“Sorry,” said Kurogane.

“Next time, be smarter and don't drop things so close to the door.” Kensley added, “if you both would move, I'd be ever so grateful.”

They both stepped outside, allowing Kensley to negotiate out the door with her large load. She began hanging cushions on the clothes rack, ready to have the dust beat out of them. “Did you bring the water?”

Fiske rapped her knuckles against a barrel that went up to her waist.

“Bring me a pailful, then put it in the house for Mister Kurogane.”

Fiske shot a glance at Kurogane, clearly wondering why she and her sister were working so hard while Kurogane watched from the doorway. He left them to it and approached Darby instead.

“I was separated from my party,” he said. “I was wondering if you heard news of them from the village?”

Kurogane gave a description of everyone, minus Mokona, who was difficult to describe even to someone acquainted with the talking meatbun. When he came to Fai, he took a gamble.

“About this tall,” Kurogane said, holding his hand several feet above his own head. From Darby's wide-eye look, Kurogane realized his exaggeration and lowered it to only a couple of inches above his head. “Black hair, red eyes, darker skin than us.”

“Someone like that would definitely stand out,” Darby said. “I'll ask around the village, see if anyone has seen him.”

“Thank you,” Kurogane said. “Is there anywhere else they could have gone? Any place nearby?”

“Not really.” Darby drew his finger across the wooden table they were seated around, drawing invisible circles and lines. “Stigastr is between the Bonewood and Southern Forest. Helland is the closest settlement, about a day's ride. I'd say that your best bet is the Southern Forest.”

“Is the Southern Forest well-traversed?”

“It gets at least one villager a day,” Darby explained. “The hunting is good and the forest is plentiful. There are paths that lead down to Helland and further along the mountain ridge.”

So if his friends were in the Southern Forest looking for him, chances were high that they'd meet a villager who would either rescue them or come back with a description of them. News caught like wild fire in small populations. If his friends were met in the woods by a villager, the villager wouldn't stay quiet. Darby had probably already done much to bolster Kurogane's fame in Stigastr.

Kurogane had to be smart about his searching. He couldn't afford to waste time by searching an area that was already covered. He could count the Southern Forest out of his search area.

There was a major area outside of the village that Kurogane was desperate to cover, although he already knew what Darby would say. “And the Bonewood –” he started.

“Absolutely not.” Darby shook his head. “It's too dangerous to even think about going in.”

“I see.”

Kurogane was definitely going to investigate the Bonewood. It was the first place he had been without his friends. Everything Darby said about the forest made it too suspicious not to investigate. He just had to be careful about how he did it.

He filled Fai's pack with food in case he really did get lost and double-checked to make sure that the fire was completely extinguished.

Like Darby had said, some of the villagers were working in the clearing and just into the Bonewood. While they searched for berries, herbs and mushrooms, they talked and laughed in a tight group. No one was by themselves.

He could wait until the cover of night and slip in like the ninja he was. The new shine of blond hair that Kurogane knew too well made him self-conscious, less like a shadow and more like a brilliant distraction.

Instead, Kurogane continued along the edge of the forest, waving to the group. As Kurogane expected, they already knew about him and the description of his friends. He picked berries with them for a bit, adding to the bread he had brought along to make a simple lunch later in the day. He left them learning a few names and making sure they had descriptions of who he was searching for.

The forest ran out at a stream. Remembering Darby's crude map, further south of the river was a simple bridge that allowed for carts and livestock to cross without impediment. Far off, he spotted dots of people milling about. No one around. Kurogane entered the forest, following the stream north.

The thin trees and low shrubs soon gave way to the real trees of the Bonewood, towering high above him. For a magical wood, it seemed quite... ordinary. Birds nested in the swaying branches, squirrels stole fallen nuts from the moss and scurried up the long length of the trees.

The repeating landscape was dizzying, and Kurogane could imagine how someone could get lost without magical trickery. He marked his path by scoring the trees with a rock, roaming deeper into the woods.

A few snatches of song caught his ears. “Swaying, swaying like a balloon. Mokona, Mokona, over the moon!”

Of course he'd find her first. Mokona's lack of discretion had gotten her into and out of trouble countless times before.

Kurogane found her in the crux of a tree several metres above his head. A beehive had been built under a branch and pressed close to the trunk. Mokona was clearly stuck at the staggering height, sitting on the branch that held the beehive and irritating the bees to no end. Honey oozed from the hive and she was covered in the stuff.

Kurogane called up to her and Mokona's stopped swaying.

“Fai! Mokona is so happy to see you!”

“It's Kurogane.” He studied the tree. The bark was textured with vertical slits. The only branches at his level were too thin to support his weight. Kurogane opened Fai's bag, searching for a tool to help.

“Kurogane? Why did it take you so long to find Mokona!” She started kicking her little feet. Honeycomb fell from the beehive, sprinkling on Kurogane's head.

“What the – stop that, you stupid meatbun!” Kurogane tried to shake the honeycomb from his hair, but of course it was too sticky to come out.

“You left Mokona in the woods all by herself! She's dying of hunger.” At least she stopped moving.

Bingo. Kurogane found the throwing knives Fai used before he got vampire claws. “You've got enough on you to survive a night in the woods.”

The tree separated beautiful under the knives. Kurogane thrust them in the tree trunk and used them as handholds to get to the lowest branch.

“How did you get up there, anyway?” he asked as he carefully scaled up.

“Mokona has been here since we came in this world yesterday. She got stuck in a tree and has been eating delicious honey, waiting for a beefy ninja to rescue her.”

Kurogane heaved himself onto another set of branches. He was a lot closer to her now. The buzzing of bees was insistent.

If he got any closer, he would be stung, especially since his skin wasn't as covered as Fai normally dressed. Kurogane climbed through the branches until he was underneath the hive.

“Jump down. I'll catch you.”

“Now Mokona knows for sure you aren't Fai. Fai would never put her in such danger,” she wailed.

“You jump onto me all the time,” Kurogane said gruffly. “You know I'm good at catching.”

“Come here and rescue Mokona!”

“You don't want Fai to get stung, do you?”

That stopped her wailing. Kurogane couldn't completely see her with the beehive in the way. “Well, are you going to jump?”

“Wait a second.”

He waited. The bees darted in repeating, threatening patterns around the hive. “What the hell are you doing?”

When she spoke again, her voice was muffled. “Getting a last bite.”

“Dammit Mokona!”

“Okay, I'm ready!”

It was lucky that Kurogane was used to catching Mokona, because she dropped so suddenly, his instinct to reach out and snag her kicked in.

“Ew, you're all sticky!”

“We should probably hurry,” Mokona said. Her cheeks were stuffed and she held more honeycomb in her paws. “Those bees don't like to share.”

Going down was a hell of a lot easier than going up. Kurogane nimbly jumped from branch to branch, using the knives as handholds again to rest on the ground. The bees had given up their chase, satisfied that the assailant on their home had been removed and detained.

“Here, Mokona saved a piece for you!”

Kurogane held her paw still so that Mokona couldn't shove the morsel into her mouth as she usually did when she offered him food. Mokona squeaked at the trick as Kurogane plucked it from her paw with his teeth. He rolled the honeycomb around in his mouth, sucking off the honey. “Not bad.”

“Kurogane is so evil to Mokona!”

He put her on the ground while he retrieved the knives. A stone was next to Fai's bag. It was oddly shaped, smooth on one side and sharp on the opposite. Without completely understanding why, Kurogane slipped it into his pocket.

This entire time, Mokona was pulling on his trouser leg as she gave him a needlessly long and obviously exaggerated rendition of how, against all odds, she had bravely survived a night against a hostile insect invasion.

“You invaded their home,” he reminded her.

“Mokona had to survive by herself somehow!”

They were both covered in sticky honey. Kurogane reflected that he could have come out of the situation much cleaner if Mokona hadn't made such expressive gestures so close to him while she talked, flinging honey everywhere.

“I saw a stream back there where we can wash.”

“Sounds good, Kuro-puro.” Mokona hopped several feet on to his shoulder.

“Remind me again why you couldn't come down yourself?”

“Mokona isn't fond of heights,” she said, which was, again, a total lie.

Kurogane retraced his steps to the stream. Still, there were no villagers around. Apparently, all of the villagers believed the story Darby told him about the Bonewood. Though, based on Kurogane's experience, the only threatening thing about the woods was furry meatbuns who picked fights with bees.

The sun was high in the sky, perfect for drying the clothes Kurogane washed and laid out. The stream was already a gentle meander, but Kurogane still deposited Mokona near a dip in the shore where the water was practically still.

She practised different strokes, navigating between a short crop of cat-o-tails as obstacles.

“Hey! We're here to get clean!” Kurogane told her off before dipping in the water and furiously scrubbing the honey out of his long hair.

Mokona floated on her back and blew water out like a whale. “You're trying so hard. Fai, you're already pretty!”

“I know that,” Kurogane muttered. Without soap or a cloth, he rubbed his palms over his entire body, using his fingernails to pry off any honey that had dried on.

When he was satisfied about his cleanliness, he grabbed Mokona and did the same to her, despite her squeaks of protests about his cruelty.

“See?” he said, dunking her a final time in the water. “Now that we're clean, we can relax.”

“You're a monster.”

Kurogane let her float away. A breeze came through that lifted his wet hair. He tipped his head up to the sun.

“Before, you said that 'we' arrived in this world. Does that mean the others are here, too?”

“Sure, Kuro-puro! Aren't they with you?”

“No.”

Mokona's ears dropped. “Oh.”

“Do you have any idea what might have happened? We were separated before, in Shura.”

“After that happened, Mokona was extra careful when transporting her friends! We all arrived in this world together. But,” Mokona curled into herself, bobbing like an apple in the water, “she doesn't know what happened after that.”

“We'll find them. Together.”

Mokona swam closer to Kurogane. He watched as she curled her entire paw around his pinkie finger.

“Together!”

“And who knows,” he chuckled. “Maybe they've already found each other and can't understand a word of what they're saying.”

Mokona laughed. “Especially that Kurogane guy! He's all muscle, no brains!”

“I told you, I am Kurogane.” He knew she remembered. She had made enough cracks about him.

“So, Kurogane.” Mokona snuggled her head in his hand so that she was doing absolutely no work in keeping herself afloat. “How did that happen?”

Kurogane dipped his head in the water, being careful to keep his arm still for Mokona. He inspected the ends of his hair. Fine strands of gold that glimmered with water droplets.

“Magic, I'm guessing,” he answered softly.

“Even in Fai's body, you're no brains.”

“Well, seeing as I can't do magic, I'll have to wait until we find the magician to get answers.”

“Kurogane,” Mokona said, completely exasperated. She bobbled in the water, too fluffy to actually sink. “You're the magician now! You have the answers.”

“I haven't tried to do any magic.” He wouldn't even know what that felt like.

“Try it now! Wait.” Mokona swam a healthy distance away. “Now try it.”

“Don't go to far! I already rescued you once today. If you get swept downriver, I'm not going to get you.”

Mokona grabbed onto a reed and tied it around her waist. “I'm safe. Try a little magic.” She gestured to the river bank, where they had abandoned their things. “Make some magic over there.”

Kurogane stood. He gave a quick check, again making sure that no one was watching. He raised his arms and pointed them at the grass at the riverbed. Obviously, nothing happened.

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked Mokona.

“Mokona doesn't know, because she's not the one in Fai's body.”

“You're absolutely no help.”

“Mokona has to concentrate and listen to her insides when she does magic,” she suggested.

Inner focus. Kurogane had to master the same technique to unlock the powers of his sword. He closed his eyes and concentrated. The sun warmed his shoulders in a welcome contrast to the cool water swirling at his waist. Mud squished between his toes. He was standing so still, occasionally a fish would come to investigate the fine hair on his legs.

When he focused on himself and began isolating distractions, the ever-present pain in his chest became excruciating. Kurogane chased his pulse to the centre of his being, where he felt a staggering void.

He lurched forward. Mokona shouted. He caught himself before he went under the water, bringing awareness back to his environment.

Out of instinct, he smiled at her worried face. “I'm fine.”

Under the water, he pressed a hand over the hole in his chest.

They split the loaf of bread and whatever berries hadn't gotten squished during their adventure. Kurogane's clothes dried quickly in the sun. Mokona did not. After dressing, he agreed to hold her until they got to the first houses of the village.

“I haven't seen any creatures like you here,” he explained as he placed her careful in Fai's bag. “And the villagers are wary of magical creatures they call 'faeries'.”

Mokona pouted. “Fine. But I get all of your dessert tonight.”

Kurogane closed the bag over her, strategically not mentioning the lack of sweets in this world.

The cottage was starting to look like a place where someone actually lived. The entire place had been cleaned by Kensley, including the floors, and the pantry was stocked with food items. More logs had been piled next to the stove. A full pot of stew sat on the stove top, waiting to be reheated.

Kurogane let Mokona out and showed her around the cottage. Mokona declared that the big bedroom in the back was hers. He said that he'd already been sleeping there. She pointed out that the bed was big enough for two.

He lit the fire and left Mokona with instructions not to let the stew burn. Then he went into the village.

Dusk had well and truly set. There had been a few candles and lanterns at the cottage, but Kurogane preferred not to waste them if he didn't need to. Enough light filtered out through the windows of the other houses to give him direction.

He paused outside Darby's door, listening to the sounds inside. Soft voices in conversation filtered through, including a hearty laugh by Darby. Feeling less like an intruder, Kurogane knocked on the door.

Darby answered, peeking through a small gap he made between the door and the jamb. When he saw who it was, he flung the door wide open and all but pulled Kurogane in.

Darby's home was bigger than his parents' and crowded with rugs, dried flowers hanging from the ceiling. The furniture was pressed closed together and overflowing with carved statuettes, interesting rocks and needlework.

Kensley was at the table. She was wearing a red dress with beautiful embroidery. Her hair was styled half up to show off her youthful face. A pile of knitting sat forgotten in her lap as she looked through lowered eyelashes at a boy sitting across from her. He had his head in his hands and his elbows on the table, staring at Kensley as she murmured something for his ears only.

“Brant,” Darby said, loud enough to disturb their private conversation. The boy snapped to attention in his seat. Kensley applied herself back to her knitting with a guilty vigour.

“This is Kurogane, our visitor.”

“Hello, sir.” Brant nodded at him. He seemed relieved upon meeting Kurogane, laying into the “sir” a bit much.

Kensley paused in her knitting long enough to give him a smile.

“I wanted to thank your family for the excellent work you've done in getting me set up,” Kurogane said.

“No trouble at all!” Darby said.

That wasn't true. Darby had his own household to maintain, it didn't help him to take in a second. Kensley's hands were pink from the rough soap she had used to clean the floors.

“Either way,” Kurogane said. “I'm grateful. I noticed an axe missing from the cottage. If you provide me with one, I can cut my own logs.”

“That's Fiske's job,” Darby said.

“I don't mind work,” Kurogane said. And, something he would never admit in front of Mokona, “actually, I like it.”

Darby clamped a hand on Kurogane's shoulder and squeezed. This was the exact reason why Kurogane didn't like to share personal information about himself. “Of course you do! I knew I'd like you as soon as I met you.”

Kensley lay her knitting on the table and stood up. “Fiske is asleep. Let me get her.”

She left for another room. Kurogane accepted a glass of spirits from Darby. He poured a much smaller quantity for Brant who flushed on first sip. Mokona was already working her magic; everything Darby said came out crystal clear.

Kensley came back when Darby was beginning a story about a deer hunt involving a broken bow, missing arrows and an entirely drunken party. She wisely let her father give the punchline before saying, “Fiske is already asleep. I'm sure she has an extra hatchet stored somewhere. I'll tell her tomorrow.”

Darby shook his head. “All that girl does is sleep!”

“She's still growing,” Kensley said defensively, a contrast to their usual squabbling when the girls were together.

“Speaking of sleeping.” Brant was face down on the table. Darby raised an eyebrow at his daughter. “After one glass of mead. Are you sure about him?”

Kensley raised her chin proudly. “Very.”

“Alright, alright.” Darby bumped his shoulder against Kurogane's. “My daughters run this household if you can't tell.”

“Kids,” Kurogane said.

Together, they propped up Brant long enough for him to wish Kensley a happy Midwinterseve – “Wrong season, boy,” Darby said – and took him to the smithee's. His father answered the door, saw Brant and laughed.

“Your daughter is sure about him?” the smithee asked.

“Very,” Darby answered.

Darby walked Kurogane most of the way back to his cottage, easily negotiating the paths and obstacles in the growing dark. The cottage was sat on its small rise, lit inside by the fire. Darby froze when he saw it and let out a soft breath.

“My parents died the same week,” he said. “My father said that he could never live without my mother. Guess that was true. Thank you,” he said to Kurogane. “I never thought I'd see someone getting any use out of that husk of a home again.”

“It's because of you,” Kurogane said. “And your daughters.”

There was silence between them. In the last of the light, Kurogane saw several thoughts pass over Darby's face. Finally, he said, “These friends who you're looking for...”

“They're my family,” Kurogane said, hoping to put an end to whatever was developing between them.

“That's good. Men like us weren't made to live by ourselves. Speaking of which. Brant proposed to Kensley tonight. I told her to think about it, but she said that she's been thinking about this for years.” Darby laughed. “She's too much like me.”

“That's great,” Kurogane said. Though he had just met Brant an hour ago, he added, “I'm sure he'll grow into a great husband.”

“He better. Hearts are too easily broken. Would you like to come to the party after the wedding? It'll be held in the town square the night after next.”

“I'd be honoured.”

They said their good-nights and walked away, Darby back into the village and Kurogane to his borrowed cottage.

As he always did when the Bonewood was in his sights, he scanned the treeline, as though his friends might materialize. He caught movement at the far end of the village. An orb of light. The trailing of a dark cloak.

Kurogane ran. It was a stupid thing to do in the dark and he nearly twisted his foot over rocks half-embedded in the grass nearly a dozen times. The light had disappeared before he came to the location when he last saw it. He squinted into the trees, trying and finding nothing.

“Sakura?” he called into the forest. “Syaoran?”

No answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	3. A princess to keep the peace

It was thoroughly unfair, but it was a challenge. And challenges weren't exactly known for their partiality.

 _This is still bullshit_. Fai paused, stunned at the veracity of his own thought. Carefully, he quelled it. Instead, he said aloud, “I don't like this.”

Five paths to follow, five gems to reach. Only one that Yuuko actually wanted. An unnecessary danger for all of them to separate.

“Fai, don't worry.” Mokona jumped on to his shoulder so that she could stroke his head like a cat. “Mokona is the toughest of the group! She'll be fine.”

Fai met Kurogane's eyes, hoping to find an ally. “Still...”

“Mokona will get her heartstone and come right back.” She hopped off his shoulder and stood at the junction where the paths broke off. She waved a paw. “Don't be surprised when Mokona comes back first!”

~~~

When Kurogane woke up, it was with Mokona's hot breath in his face.

She blinked her eyes sleepily at him. “One of us needs to move.”

Kurogane pushed her under the covers. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. The last world they had been in was Geimmland. A world where nearly every living thing had crystallized, an effect, they had learned from Syaoran's reading of texts, from being left alone too long. The kaleidoscope of crystalline colour of that world had entered his dreams. Not his, he realized. Fai's.

On the other side of the thick timber walls, birds chirped. Early morning sunshine filtered in through the small window. Mokona was kicking up a storm where Kurogane held her under the blankets. He let her go, let her beat her paws against him in retaliation – never hard enough to bruise – and swung out of bed.

Mokona snuggled into the warm spot he left behind. “Mokona will take breakfast in bed. She needs to recover.”

“You're so hard done by.”

Kurogane washed in cold water and dressed. There were oats in the cupboard and a bottle of goat's milk in the crawlspace under the floor. Kurogane mixed together a thick oatmeal and topped it with the berries he picked the day before. He divided it into bowls and set it on the table along with glasses of water and spoons.

He kicked the bedroom door open. “I'm not spoon-feeding you.”

“Fine.” In two speedy hops, Mokona was on his shoulder. “But don't blame Mokona for her bad mood today.”

Despite her threats, Mokona sung while they ate. Apparently, she was compiling a ballad about her night alone in the woods. She finished the third aura, smartly rhyming golden nectar with bee deflector, coupling it with a swing of her ears when Kurogane interrupted.

“Got any ideas where the others might be?”

Enthusiasm whooshed out of her like air from a balloon. “Mokona's so sure we all came together. But we're not together now.”

“Maybe something interfered with your magic.” Kurogane twirled the spoon in his hand as he thought. He slammed it down in triumph. “Ah-ha!”

Mokona squeaked. “Fai is never this loud!”

“I'm Kurogane, remember?” He made a face at her.

“Careful, Fai's face might stick like that.”

“I was thinking,” Kurogane said, ignoring her jab, “the villagers say that forest is home to faeries. Could they have messed with your magic?”

While Mokona pretended to think it over, she swiped one of Kurogane's berries. He let her. “My magic comes from Clow and Yuuko, two powerful magic users. The last time we were separated, it was because of a request King Ashura made to Yuuko.”

“The faeries might have done the same.”

Mokona perked up. “We should ask Yuuko!”

“Let's not,” Kurogane said quickly. He avoided that witch on the best of days. The last thing he needed was for her to think he hijacked Fai's body. “What if there were a lot of faeries with strong magic? And they worked together to separate us?”

Mokona's ears dropped. “Then Mokona is very worried for everyone.”

The more Kurogane added the disparaging elements up in his head, the more it made sense. If they landed in a forbidding forest full of hostile faeries who played tricks on humans, it stood to reason that they would work their magic to separate them.

“They must have switched me and Fai, too,” he thought out loud.

“Why would they do that?”

Kurogane shrugged. “They're faeries who like to play tricks on people. Who knows how they think?”

“Mokona wonders if the faeries switched Sakura and Syaoran, too.”

“That would be...” Kurogane covered his mouth with his hand.

“See why Mokona's always laughing at you?”

“Shut it, meatbun.”

At the very least, they learned where to concentrate their search efforts. At the very worst, they had enemies and were about to walk into the hornet's nest. Not a great time for Kurogane to be without his sword.

“Don't forget to pack a lunch, Kuro-puro!” Mokona said as she hopped off the table and back into the bedroom, leaving Kurogane to do the dishes by himself.

Kurogane started gathering the dishes. “Why couldn't I have found you last,” he mumbled under his breath.

Packing for their day of exploration posed a bit of a problem. Mokona would have to stay hidden until they entered the forest. Fai's bag was already full of what Kurogane deemed as necessities and enough food for five people – because Kurogane and Mokona both ate double-portions. The extra was in case they found someone.

“Wear a coat! Mokona can hide there!” She had come out of the room when Kurogane started packing, to give suggestions that he really didn't need.

“That's going to look weird,” Kurogane said. “It's too warm out.”

“A stuffed animal! Mokona can sit very still.”

“Impossible,” Kurogane said. “Besides, how bizarre will it look for a grown man to carry around a stuffed animal?”

“Kuro-pan already look bizarre in Fai's body.”

Kurogane grabbed Mokona by the ears and swung her around. She gave an happy pip. “Exactly who were you insulting with that?”

“Kuro-tan, Kuro-tan, Kuro –”

A knock at the door.

Kurogane froze. Mokona, miraculously, was silent. With growing terror, Kurogane watched as the doorknob turned. With nowhere else to hide his furry friend, he shoved Mokona under his vest.

Kensley popped her head in. “Morning, Kurogane!”

His stomach was bulging.

“Are you alright?” she asked after a brief pause.

“Just a big breakfast.” Kurogane rubbed his stomach and stopped when he realized he might inadvertently tickle Mokona.

“I thought I heard someone.”

“That was me. Morning vocal exercises.” Kurogane was a terrible liar. So where was all this golden material coming from? Maybe he couldn't use Fai's magic, but he had full mastery of Fai's lying abilities. It made him feel smug and accomplished. No wonder Fai lied all the time. This felt good.

“You were saying your own name?”

“Did you need something Kensley?”

“Oh, yes!” Her face lit up. She was already in her work attire, short trousers and a shirt rolled up to the elbows. “Jud, the smithee, Brant's father – oh you met Brant the other night, he's got all these adorable freckles –”

Mokona was squirming. With her head in the clouds, Kensley didn't notice. Kurogane slid around the table to hide his stomach behind the overstuffed bag.

“That's not the point! Jud spotted a girl running into the Bonewood!”

Kurogane was already reaching for the bag. “What did she look like?”

“My height with darker skin, short brown hair, a white cape –”

He put his hand on her shoulder as he passed her. “Thank you so much. You have no idea how much... thank you.”

Kensley smiled. “Of course!”

When he took off, she shouted at him, “You shouldn't run on a full stomach.” And then, as though finally processing what she told him, shrieked, “Not the Bonewood!”

But Kurogane was already gone.

Far enough into the shade of the trees, he divested Mokona from his vest so they could both yell for Sakura.

“Maybe we should separate and look for Sakura,” Mokona suggested.

“No,” Kurogane said immediately. And then he cursed. She was right – the forest was too big for one team to search.

He gave up running straight and started zigzagging. He was looking for clues now, too. If only he had asked Kensley when Sakura was spotted. Even with Fai's body, he was a faster runner. Sakura still limped with phantom pain from her solo adventure in Tokyo.

He paused to get his bearings. “Can you sense her?” he asked Mokona, panting.

Her little face frowned. “Mokona can't sense anything in this forest. There's something else here that's messing with Mokona.”

Left was trees. Right was trees. In all his running, Kurogane was turned around. He wouldn't be able to find his way back out, even if he tried.

“We need a better strategy.”

“Put Mokona down.”

He did. She trotted a little ways away from him, her big, round feet sinking into the moss. “Mokona thinks she can still do this...”

And she flew. Light bent around her to give her pale wings that she used to climb high into the air, the top of her head brushing with the canopy. She opened her mouth wide, wider, but instead of sucking Kurogane in and transporting them to a new world, an exhale of wind came out of her mouth.

Caught in the cross hairs, Kurogane lifted an arm to shield himself. When the barrage stopped, he lowered his arm as Mokona was lowering herself to the forest floor. Her illusionary wings disappeared.

Some leaves and sticks had been blown over Kurogane. He picked them off of himself. “What did that accomplish?”

“This!” Mokona skipped over and picked some things off the moss floor. The first was a hanky in hound's tooth pattern that she set over her shoulders like a cape. The second was a hat of matching fabric that went on her head. She put a tiny pipe in her mouth. “Detective Mokona is ready!”

“You useless boiled potato.”

“We'll see who's useless when Mokona cracks this case wide open!”

She was squinted at him through a regular-sized magnifying glass that blew up her eyes to frightening proportions. “Stop that!”

Mokona traipsed across the moss, bent over so low, she was almost on all fours. The magnifying glass never left her eye. “What we need are clues!”

She wasn't wrong about that. “Don't go too far!” Kurogane called to her.

There wasn't much at eye-level in the forest. Some young trees fought for the little bit of sunlight that filtered through the packed branches of the more mature trees. Moss ran up the trunks of the already thick trees, making them bulky. There were less bushes here than at the edge of the forest, just a small patch near where he was. As Kurogane stared at them, they moved.

Sakura wouldn't be hiding. Someone was spying on them. Mokona was behind him, a safe enough distance if the voyeur was unfriendly. He silently crept forward, the moss absorbing the sound of his footfall. He cursed himself for not having a weapon – Fai's fists would have to be enough.

At the bushes, Kurogane moved a branch. He barely caught a glimpse of a black, round eye staring back at him before he was knocked backwards.

He rolled when he hit the ground, quite proud of himself for how fast he sprung up. Fai's body was working well for him.

The deer – a doe – was already running further into the forest. Her white tail bobbed along, disappearing into the gloom.

Kurogane brushed the bit of dirt of his knees. “Should have caught it for dinner.” He laughed at his own joke.

No Mokona to tell him how stupid it was.

“Mokona?”

He was alone.

“Mokona!”

Again.

Kurogane was frozen, not knowing where to go or what to do. His chest throbbed.

Mokona came out from behind a tree. “Come Watson! I found a clue!”

“The name's Kurogane,” he grumbled. He was mad at himself for thinking something had happened to her. Of course Mokona wouldn't wander off. He had all the food.

Kurogane circled the tree to where she was. Mokona was waving a piece of white cloth like a victory flag.

Not just white – there was pink border of intricate geometry cleverly worked to seem like simple squares from afar. Such craftsmanship only existed in Clow Country.

“Sakura,” Kurogane breathed. He immediately set to work searching for more clues. Nearby, the wildflowers were disturbed, like someone had fallen into them. A chunk of berries and their nearby leaves were missing from a bush. And finally Kurogane found it: A footprint left deep in the moss.

“It's her size.” Kurogane placed himself where she would have been, between the bushes were someone stole the berries and the spot where someone had fallen. “But I don't understand what's going on here.”

Mokona had dashed away from him, detecting more clues. “Kurogane, look!”

“Did you find something else?” Kurogane joined her. “Ah.”

Quite a distance off, was a cabin set between trees. Like the houses in the village, it was built by stacking logs to form a rectangle and thatched with fir branches to make a roof. From the stone chimney came a curl of smoke. A fire, recently put out.

The one good thing about a magical forest with giant-sized trees was that they provided good cover for stealth work. Kurogane tucked Mokona in his vest again, this time letting her head and ears stick out, and advanced to the house by darting behind each tree.

He didn't directly approach the house, instead using his tree-hiding technique to scope around the place, looking for signs of disturbance. The moss was well-trodden at one end of the house, so Kurogane sneaked to the other and peaked through an opening between the logs. Inside, he found the normal trappings of a single dwelling: A cupboard and table placed near the smouldering fireplace; a bed tucked in a corner and smartly made; tools and boxes stuffed into every available crevice.

It was empty.

Kurogane placed a hand on Mokona's head to make sure she stayed quiet. The door handle was loop of thick, rough rope. At Kurogane's tug, the door gave way with no lock or barrier to prevent it from opening.

Inside, Mokona squirmed out of Kurogane's vest. She hopped onto the table to inspect bowls that had been placed upside-down on to it. “Maybe a witch lives here.”

“That shouldn't worry you. You used to live with a witch.”

“That's how Mokona knows witches don't like when you touch their stuff.”

Kurogane paused in opening a chest that had dozens of blankets neatly folded on its top. He gently rested the lid back down.

“This doesn't make sense. The villagers say that no one goes into these woods anymore.” Kurogane inspect coloured yarn hung on a peg hammered into the wall. “But a lot of this stuff you wouldn't be able to make by yourself. You would need to rely on trade, a community.”

“Like Yuuko,” Mokona agreed. Against her own advice, she had overturned a bowl to reveal a rising dough. She was kneading it into its second rising as she spoke, flouring clouding the air. “People come from all over to exchange things for Yuuko's magic!”

“Sometimes against their will.” Strangely, Kurogane felt a thousand tiny pricks light up his back. Yuuko had taken Fai's tattoo, Kurogane remembered, lifted straight off his back. Why a brand was the most important thing for Fai, at that time, Kurogane had no idea. History belonged in a book; it didn't need to be carried around.

A thought surfaced then, and he realized what had him on edge. “This room is too small,” he said. “It should be bigger based on the outside.”

Almost on cue, a thump came from a wall.

Kurogane quickly re-evaluated the scene in his head. Outside, there had been four walls and two doors, one with a rope handle, the other bigger, with a latch on its outside. In this room, there was only one door.

“There's another room,” he whispered to Mokona.

Mokona heaved a bowl back onto the rising dough. “Kuro-pan is so slow sometimes.”

He only let her on his shoulder after he had none too gently dusted the excess flour off of her. Kurogane quietly closed the door after he exited and stealthily tread to the opposite end of the house. There were no conveniently empty slats to see through at eye level. Near the roof were some gaps in the logs acting as vents.

“Help me out here,” Kurogane whispered, lifting Mokona up.

“Mokona is dressed as a detective, not a ninja.”

“Detectives sometimes spy. Go!”

She jumped from his hand to the vent and wiggled her body through. A brief moment, then she wiggled back out and fell directly on Kurogane's head. “All clear!”

He plucked her off and dropped her on the moss. “Thanks.”

Despite its impressive size, the latch was not heavy. Kurogane lifted it and ducked inside with Mokona. The vents allowed for some light, but it still took Kurogane a few blinks to adjust to the darkness. For those few seconds, he was venerable in what used to be his element.

A blay shook him out of it.

A barn. A coop ran along a wall, with the chickens sitting on the ramp to stay out of the way of three goats taking up the straw. A goat came up and nudged his hand, hoping for treats. When she found none, she blayed her discontent to Kurogane and left to sulk in a corner.

“Aren't they cute?” Mokona picked up a strand of straw and waved it in the face of a goat. “Yum, yum!”

“They don't eat straw.” Kurogane flexed his hand where the goat had nosed him. He had seen the action and responded to it. He hadn't felt it. “I don't think they eat anything.”

“That's stupid, Kuro-pan.”

“How did you stop the bees from stinging you?”

Mokona sang a line from her ballad, “All the bees were forced to yield to Mokona's Ear Cyclone Shield!”

“I wasn't stung either,” Kurogane said. “And I did nothing.”

“What are you saying?”

Kurogane hated magic. Obviously, he grew up around it; magic in his father's dragon sword, magic in his mother's protection spells, magic in Princess Tomoyo's dreams. He hated this kind of magic, the kind that surrounded him and left no indication of how he could fight his way out of it.

“There's faeries in these woods.”

A laugh came from outside. Kurogane snatched Mokona and deposited her in the chicken coop, much to the annoyance of the hens. He backed into a corner next to the door, a terrible spot to hide. But Kurogane wasn't planning on hiding for long.

The noise and soft voice stopped at the door. The latch, Kurogane thought. He obviously hadn't been able to close it after entering.

The door grated against the dirt floor, opening to the outside. Kurogane tensed, ready to react.

A goat trotted in. Following behind in her billowing white cape was Sakura.

She dragged the door shut behind her without looking, focused on making little cooing sounds to the goat. Kurogane internally groaned. Any sensible person would be cautious after seeing the latch displaced. He was going to have to include her on the ninja lessons he gave to Syaoran.

“Sakura,” he said, not moving.

She gasped, fell to her knees and held the goats face in her hands. “Fai, is that you? I thought you were Kurogane all along, always sneaking out!”

Kurogane didn't know if she had gone deaf or delusional. He left his corner and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It's Kurogane.”

Sakura jumped nearly a full metre in the air, which Kurogane had calculated would happen. He held her steady as she staggered to her feet. “Fai, it's you! In human form!”

“Actually, it really is Kurogane. I can see how this all is confusing.” He paused, considering what she had said and the goats. “Actually, no, I can't. Why wouldn't I be human?”

Sakura pointed at the goat she came in with, who was trotting around the barn as though inspecting it for signs of intrusion, completely oblivious to Kurogane. “I thought he was you!”

From the chicken coop, Mokona came sailing into Sakura's arms. “Sakura! Mokona is here, too!”

“That's really Mokona,” Kurogane added.

After a session of nuzzling which had Mokona preening, Sakura pointed at the goat that had tried to steal food from Kurogane earlier. “So strange! I thought that was Mokona.”

“Sakura, are Fai and Syaoran with you?” Kurogane asked.

Sakura gazed sadly at the two other goats, one licking the other's head, and the other stoically putting up with it. “I suppose not.”

Kurogane was very afraid for Sakura's mental state at this point. “We brought sandwiches,” he said. “Maybe we could have a meal. And a rest.”

Sakura nodded. “I can make tea!”

They left the barn in single-file, as Sakura feared the goats would sneak out. “Again,” Sakura said. “Kurogane's always running away and finding strange places to hide.”

“Tell me about it!” Mokona was happily snuggled in Sakura's arms, totally in the way as she rekindled the fire in the stove. “Kurogane was running and hiding behind trees on the way over here!”

“And so stubborn,” Sakura agreed. She heaved on the lever at the sink, drawing water for the kettle. “I had to practically drag him all the way here. And when he spotted some berries to eat, I fell several times trying to pull him away!”

She wasn't talking about him, but it still stung. “Sakura, do you need any help?”

Sakura panted as she leaned on the lever one last time. “No, I'm fine! You just get comfy.”

Of course, he couldn't do that when there were chores in need of doing. He found the axe and found some low-hanging branches; he fell them and stripped the needles from the logs. He added them to the fire to get it hot enough to start boiling the water.

“Thanks for that!” Sakura said. She had cleared the table and lay down a pink tablecloth with strawberries embroidered on it. Every dish was a different colour and size, and set together, were quite charming. Sakura had given Kurogane the biggest plate.

She was on her hands and knees, lifting up a rug to get at a cellar. “I have some dried meats, too, and plums.”

Kurogane took out the sandwiches, straightening the edges a bit and added them to the table. “How did you have time to dry meats? It's only been two days.”

“This place was full of food when I arrived.” Sakura deposited the small, purple plums in a bowl. “For dessert!” She was already smelling different herbs and crushing them into the heating water.

“Does somebody else live here?”

“Not that I've seen, but someone must keep the goats. I hope they don't mind that I've borrowed the place for a bit!” Sakura slapped her hands together, dusting off the remainder of the herbs. She surveyed the table, looking for more work.

“Sakura, this, too.” The only work Mokona had done was change out of her detective costume. She held up the scrap of white fabric she had found earlier in the woods.

“Oh no!” Sakura searched the ends of her cape. She had kept it on, as her outfit was light and airy, more fit for desert living than a forest. She located the rip and sighed. “Maybe I can get Yuuko to fix it with magic.”

“You'll have to trade her something good!” Mokona was already into the plums.

“You're right. I was saving it for something else, but maybe this.” Sakura pulled out her heartstone from her pocket. Near the fire, it lit up in a rainbow. “It's very beautiful, but I do love my clothes. They remind me of home.”

“Yours is whole?” Kurogane frowned. “Funny, mine broke.”

“I'm sorry, Fai.” Sakura corrected herself. “Kurogane. Sorry!”

“You worry too much,” Kurogane said.

Over lunch, Sakura explained to them how she woke up in the forest alone. After exploring a bit, she found this house with goats wandering around it, picking treats from the bushes.

“And I thought, I'm missing the four of you. And there's four goats here.” Sakura flushed and stared at the crumbs on her plate. “I guess it's silly now.”

Kurogane didn't feel the need to mention that all of the goats were very clearly female. He took a sip of the tea Sakura had added goat milk to. “And who were the chickens?”

Sakura looked at Kurogane strangely. “No one. They're just very good chickens.”

Mokona explained her story and Kurogane corrected the points about Kurogane's life that she exaggerated on.

“I'm glad we're all safe,” Sakura said. “But in the end, we're still missing Fai and Syaoran.”

“Yeah.”

Kurogane looked into his empty cup, with the shrivelled leaves collected at the bottom. He remembered how clean the barn was and the rising bread that had been transferred from their table to the neatly-made bed while it rested. “Sakura, you've been very busy.”

“Yes!” Sakura laughed, but Kurogane noticed she relaxed in her chair as though grateful to be sitting. “In a way, it's been a good thing. I've been so distracted by keeping everything together, I wasn't able to even start thinking about how to turn you all back from goats. That would have sent me into a tizzy.”

“I'm sorry you had to do everything by yourself.”

“It's fine.” Without leaving her chair, Sakura retrieved the bowl of plums from the sink. “We apologize too much.”

Kurogane grinned. “You're right. Thank you for taking such good care of us when you thought we were goats.”

Sakura bit into plum and laughed.

The fruit was perfect – plump and rich and juicy. Sakura watched Kurogane lick the sweet off his fingers.

“You don't look very much like him,” she said. “You have his body, but the expressions don't match. You look like someone pretending to be him.”

“I'm not pretending to be Fai. I'm still me.”

“Even in the village,” Mokona added. “Fai is so beautiful that everyone watches him when he goes by. Kurogane walks around like this.” She scrunched up her face and stomped around the table, her paws held stiffly at her sides.

“Careful!” Kurogane rescued the teapot before its contents sloshed over the sides. “And I do not!”

Sakura gasped. From behind her hands, she looked guilty. “You're frowning just like that now.”

Having proved her point, Mokona settled back at her place. She gestured for her cup to be refilled. Face red, Kurogane returned the teapot to the opposite side of the table, furthest from Mokona.

“If you were more like Fai, people would be nicer to you,” Mokona huffed.

“People are plenty nice to me.” Then Kurogane remembered Fiske and the distrusting way she regarded him. “For the most part.”

Sakura poured Mokona another cup to keep the peace.

After lunch, the bread was well-risen, so Sakura put it in the stove along with more wood. Kurogane filled the sink with water so that she wouldn't insist on pumping it all herself. While she was distracted with washing the dishes, he shook the tablecloth out outside and poured out the remainder of the cold tea.

He stayed outside for a while, placing a hand against the sun-warmed wood of the cabin. It all felt too real to be magic. Kurogane hated it.

While they waited for the bread to be done, Sakura told them stories about the goats, about how Mokona-goat stole Kurogane-goat's feed. Suddenly, Sakura's notion that they had been transplanted into goats didn't seem so far-fetched.

“Why were you in the village?”

“A village,” Sakura mused. She finished drying a dish and passed it to Kurogane to place on the high shelf. “I barely registered that! Kurogane-goat ran away, so I had to fetch him.”

“You ran far.”

“It didn't seem so far. Do you think the bread's done by now?”

Without checking, Mokona declared that it was. Sakura confirmed that fact and removed the pot from the oven.

“Fai taught me how to do this.” A soft smile spread across Sakura's face. “He said baking was like magic. You combine ingredients and pray for a good outcome.”

The air smelt terrifically of yeast and dough. “That's a good skill. Where was I when he taught you all of this?”

“I think you were teaching Syaoran how to use a sword.”

The empty pot was placed in the sink, causing a puff of steam. Sakura wisely backed away, leaving it to cool off before she attacked it with the scrub brush. “Are we going back to the village?”

“It isn't safe in these woods.” Kurogane had already explained the faeries.

“What about the goats? We can't leave them here.”

Kurogane didn't know how to explain to Sakura that the goats might very well not be real. “I suppose we can take them with us.” He hoped that they wouldn't turn into wild boars when they left the forest and the magic wore off.

“Great! I'll get them ready.” Again, Sakura was off.

“She keeps forgetting that we're here to help,” Mokona said from where she was laying on the bed.

“I'm here to help. You just took an hour-long nap. Besides, Sakura's been like this for a long time. We always get in the way.”

A flash of grey caught his eye. Blankets folded over the chest in the corner were weighed down by a stone that Kurogane swore wasn't there before. He picked it up and turned it over. It was the same relative size as the stone he found at the base of the honeycomb tree, but with different edges.

“Did you see where this came from?”

Mokona was already on her second nap of the day.

Kurogane pocketed it and went to the door. He watched as Sakura lined the goats up and tied their leads to a tree. She was giving one of the goats a stern lecture, the translation barrier surmounted with heavy gestures. The chickens she had managed to get into a sack that she slung around her shoulders. Their heads stuck out of the opening and they gazed around in passive contentment as Sakura brought them in the house. “The animals are ready!”

She had a few feathers in her hair. Kurogane plucked them out and blew them out the open door. “Wrap up the bread. I'll finish with the dishes.”

With none of Mokona's help, they were out the door in five minutes.

“Thank you,” Sakura said to the house. “You helped me when I needed it. I promise to take care of your treasures.”

“She means the goats,” Kurogane said.

“Not the food?” replied Mokona.

Sakura took a goat and that plus the chickens was more than enough to handle. Mokona picked the Mokona-goat, whom she of course got along with famously. That left two goats for Kurogane.

“Watch they don't eat through the rope,” Sakura said. “Fai does that sometimes.”

“He's too gourmand for that,” Kurogane said. But sure enough, Fai-goat was munching on his lead. Kurogane yanked it from his mouth. “Stop that!”

They followed the path Kurogane used to get to the cottage. As confusing as the forest was, he knew they would soon be lost and kept Mokona and Sakura under a watchful eye.

“I think this way,” Sakura said. “Maybe.”

“You've only been to the village once. It's natural if you're lost.” Kurogane transferred the two leads to one hand so that he could push Fai's ridiculously flowy hair out of his face. “I know I am.”

Somehow, Mokona had managed to ride her goat like a horse. “Mokona hasn't been paying attention. Neither has Mokona-goat.”

Kurogane's arm snapped forward so hard, he almost lost his balance. The Kurogane-goat was straining at her lead.

Kurogane locked eyes with Sakura. “How much do you trust this goat?”

“As much as I trust you.”

“Alright. Lead on, little goat.”

Kurogane-goat trotted ahead confidentially, occasionally pausing to nose the moss or smell the air. She had them at the edge of the clearing in significantly less time than it had taken Kurogane to find Sakura while running.

He frowned into the forest. A sliver of white caught and held his attention. Then it slid back behind a tree.

“Is this it?” Sakura asked.

“Let's go, quick,” Kurogane said as an answer.

It was still early afternoon and anyone could see them leave. Kurogane didn't care, prompted to rush by that flash of a white, skeletal hand he'd just seen. He led their group down the slope to the cottage.

The goats and chickens went into the barn. The humans – and Mokona – went into the cottage.

Sakura set the bread on the table. “This is pretty nice.”

“The family we're renting from is pretty nice, too.” Kurogane ruffled through the bag Darby gave him. “These might fit you.”

They didn't. The trousers that stopped at Kurogane's knees went to Sakura's ankles. The white shirt had every bone button secured, and even then didn't come up to her collarbones.

“Huh. I thought you were taller.”

“They mostly fit,” Sakura said.

There was a knock at the door.

“Don't worry,” Kurogane said when Sakura looked at him. “Probably the family we're renting from. They make frequent visits.”

Kurogane went to the door, checking back to make sure that Mokona was doing her best impression of a statue, and opened it. Kensley was on the other side. She had a basket of forage and a brace of skinned rabbits slung over one shoulder.

Her eyes went wide upon seeing him. “I knew you'd come back! There were bets on whether or not the Bonewood ate you. Ashley owes me a blueberry pie.” She peaked around Kurogane's lithe form to see Sakura trying to braid twine into a makeshift belt.

“That's the girl I saw!” Kensley gasped. “You both came back!”

“I guess Ashley owes you two pies now,” Kurogane said.

“It's miraculous!” Kensley gushed. “I have to run home and – here, Kurogane, this is for you.” Kensley cut off one of the rabbits and handed over half of the items she had gathered in the forest. “Don't go anywhere!” she said to Sakura before dashing back the way she'd come.

Mokona shook herself back into motion. “Kuro-tan, do you think we'll get one of the pies?” she asked hopefully.

Kurogane stared down at the many items he was carrying. “She'll probably give us three.”

It was late enough in the afternoon that Kurogane got to work preparing a stew. He and Sakura each claimed an area of the table as their work space. While Kurogane worked to butcher the rabbit into smaller pieces, Sakura started chopping the tubular vegetables Kensley had provided. Over the simmering stock, Sakura held out herbs for Kurogane and Mokona to smell, only adding them to the pot with group consensus.

Another knock on the door. This time, Kensley didn't wait, creeping the door open until she saw them clustered around the stove. At which point, she entered fully and dropped a full sack on the ground. Fiske, following behind and carrying an equally full sack, did the same.

“I'm so excited!” Kensley gushed. She had changed from trousers and shirt to an ankle-length dress in the style that the villagers wore during social hours. Her skirt had many layers, the top one edged with an embroidery of squirrels chasing acorns. By comparison, Fiske's dress was thick and an earthy green, simple and unassuming.

“This is Kensley and Fiske,” Kurogane said to Sakura.

Sakura smiled and introduced herself.

“Sorry,” Kensley laughed. “We don't often get visitors this far away from the city. And the ones who do come are boring old men to trade.”

Fiske stared pointedly at Kurogane, who chose to ignore her.

“Anyways, you can't possibly wear that,” she said to Sakura. “I've brought some of my clothes, including outfits left by mama. Let's dress you up!”

“Are you sure it's okay?” Sakura asked.

Kurogane understood. In a secluded town, finery was rare. “You said that you inherited some clothes from your mother,” Kurogane said. He eyed the, admittedly, stuffed bags. “Do you really want to lend it out?”

“Of course! I always wanted a little sister to dress up.”

This time, Kurogane looked at Fiske who rolled her eyes.

Kensley waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Fiske doesn't count. She won't let me dress her up.”

With an impressive show of strength, Kensley grabbed both sacks and lifted them. “Let's start with formal wear!”

She herded Sakura into a back bedroom, luckily not the one Kurogane was using. The door slammed shut.

The last world they had travelled to had been devoid of life. Giving Sakura a chance to socialize with people outside their little group was the best gift Kensley could give, even if she didn't realize it. Again, Kurogane was grateful to their family.

“Excuse me.”

Kurogane turned around.

Fiske was pointing to Mokona. “Should you leave a stuffed animal on the stove?”

“Oh. I guess not.” Mokona had frozen in place when they entered, in the middle of asking Sakura if they could eat some of the bread before dinner. She was sitting on the cool side of the stove, arms stuck out at right angles. Kurogane picked her up, careful not to tickle her. Without Fiske seeing, Mokona gave a needless, exaggerated wink to Kurogane.

He propped her on the sofa. “It's Sakura's beloved stuffed animal.”

Fiske said, “I saw the ears sticking out of your bag yesterday.”

“Do you want some tea?” Kurogane asked.

He worked on putting together a warm pot of tea with a tray of oat cakes. Fiske investigated Mokona, working her little arms and petting her soft ears. At intervals, Kensley would unleash Sakura into the room in new dresses, her hair pinned back in braids. Fiske quietly clapped to appease her sister and Kurogane gave honest compliments about the colour of ribbons, the embroidery on the bustle, the folding of the skirts.

After her first cup, Fiske refilled her tea and followed the girls into the back bedroom for the next fitting.

Kurogane collapsed on the couch with a loud groan. He passed Mokona an oat cake. “For doing a good job,” he said. She ate it hurriedly before Sakura was introduced again, this time in trousers and a coat.

“Too mannish for you,” Kensley clucked and hustled them back into the bedroom.

Mokona coughed, throat dry after the oat cake. Kurogane let her sip at his tea to clear it. “We need to be more careful around that girl,” Mokona said.

“What do you mean?” Kurogane asked. But Kensley was presenting another outfit, the same as the last but with a skirt instead of trousers. Kensley launched into a long explanation about how to layer wool and linen in winter despite it being a pleasant spring and Kurogane eventually forgot his question.

Kensley and Fiske left Sakura with two outfits, one for work and another for parties. “For the wedding,” Kensley winked at her. Sakura was glowing, setting the table in brown trousers with little Vs cut into the hem and a matching purple shirt and vest.

“I wish...” Sakura started and stopped.

“Yeah. But they would have been useless judges. Fai would make you try on more outfits and Syaoran would say you look beautiful in everything.” Kurogane said.

“You're right,” Sakura said with a quiet smile.

They ate a good dinner of hearty stew and crusty bread. After, Sakura checked on her goats and they played a card game they learned in Infinity.

When they were ready for bed, Mokona jumped to Kurogane's shoulder to whisper in his ear. “Sakura looks a little sad. Mokona will sleep with her tonight. Don't be too lonely!”

“I'll manage,” Kurogane said sarcastically. Mokona either didn't notice or didn't care. She hoped over to Sakura as soon as she was done in the bathroom and they went into the spare room together.

Kurogane went into his own bedroom, changed into bed clothes and went to bed. For a long time, he stared up into the dark, watching shapes twist into and out of existence. When he finally fell asleep, it was so instantaneous, he hardly even noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	4. Knight, not a prince

As much as Fai wanted to blame Yuuko, he couldn't. She had given them all the option of leaving the world, their mission unsuccessful. When Sakura insisted on going, the perfectionist part of his mind he had never been able to fully eradicate said, _What could trying hurt?_

Sakura, apparently. A gem flower had shattered under her foot, tripping her and slashing up her leg. She had staggered back to the meeting point, drops of blood trailing her.

Fai was applying bandages, cursing himself for not studying healing magic and for letting Sakura go alone.

“It'll be fine,” Sakura said. “Wounds heal over time.”

“You didn't have to go if you didn't feel confident,” Fai said. “We would have figured out another option.”

“I want to do what I can, while I can.” She put a hand over Fai's shaking ones. “And who cares if I get a little beat up?”

~~~

When Kurogane woke alone for the second time that week, he panicked. Only after he had the bed sheets in a tangle on the floor did he remember Mokona saying that she'd sleep with Sakura.

Kurogane put a hand to his head, then placed it over his heart. The muscles of his chest were constantly straining to cover the empty hole. He wondered if Fai always had a hole in his chest and Kurogane was never able to see it.

Clearly the fugue of sleep hadn't left him yet. Kurogane dressed, washed his face and made tea with some of the dried moss and herbs Sakura had brought with her from the cottage. Cup in hand, he left the cottage to watch morning break over the village.

Kurogane turned his back on the village to regard the Bonewood. He sipped his tea thoughtfully. The stories the villagers told him passed through his mind. People went in but didn't come out, they said. But Kurogane had thrice emerged from the woods, had brought out Mokona and Sakura. What made them different? They had magic. Now, in Fai's body, Kurogane had magic, too.

There was also that cloaked figure Kurogane had seen enter on his second night. Kurogane turned back to the village. If one of the villagers was magical, they would hide it. A pity, because with two of his friends still lost, Kurogane wouldn't mind the help of someone able to navigate the Bonewood.

“Kurogane?” Sakura stuck her head out the door. “Did you want to have breakfast outside?”

“It's a bit chilly for that.” Although the cold didn't both Kurogane, he knew the dessert princess would freeze in the breeze.

Inside the cottage, Sakura was trying to do everything again. Kurogane took the spoon she was using to stir the oatmeal. “Can you check the barn? I don't know a damn thing about taking care of goats.”

“Sure!” She skipped out the door, taking a bag of oats for the animals with her.

“And you!” Kurogane pointed the spoon at Mokona rummaging in the clothing bag. “You're going to start doing some work around here.”

“Mokona isn't doing Kurogane's work for him.”

Kurogane played his ace. “Are you really going to make Sakura do all this work by herself?”

“Fine,” Mokona groused. She hopped out of the bag. “But Mokona needs her apron if she's going to do housework.”

“Get your apron.”

Mokona's wings appeared. She levitated off the ground and opened her mouth. The walls of the cottage shook. The chairs vibrated away from the table.

Kurogane grabbed her by the foot and pulled her down. “No apron!”

Unsatisfied, Mokona was left to stir the oatmeal, muttering terrible things about Kurogane into it. Her moping didn't last long – it never did – and soon she was stirring in broad strokes that occasionally sent oatmeal flying onto the stove.

Good enough. Kurogane found another pan to heat up some jam and boiled more water for more tea. Outside the window, Sakura was tearing out handfuls of grass. For the goats, Kurogane hoped.

They sat down when she came back in, holding a fresh egg in each hand. Kurogane let her tuck in a few spoonfuls of warm oatmeal and yogurt and jam with vigour before he asked, “What's it like to do magic?”

Sakura lifted her eyes from her bowl. Even Mokona was still. “You... you want to do magic?”

“Maybe.” Kurogane felt his cheeks heat. He knew Sakura could see it by the way she smiled. Damn Fai and his damn fair skin. “I'm just wondering if I can, that's all.”

“I don't know how to explain it,” Sakura says. “When I need it, I feel it there. I pull at it and...” she made a sweeping gesture. “Magic comes out.”

“For Mokona, magic is as easy as stealing Kurogane's oatmeal.”

She reached over to do just that. Kurogane, champion swordsman as he was, neatly blocked her spoon with his own. Mokona glared at him and dipped into his bowl of yogurt instead.

“You little –”

“Magic is like knowing that Mokona has two ears and two eyes and a big stomach. It's as easy as skipping down the road or pretending to be held captive by angry bees.”

“That's probably because you're made of magic,” Sakura said.

Mokona giggled. “We all are!”

The glimmers of Fai's past that Kurogane had seen in the crumbling palace at Celes showed him using magic as a boy and studying it as a teenager. “You think I need to crack open a book to do a spell?”

“No, because Kurogane can't read.” Mokona shrieked when Kurogane scooped all the jam off her oatmeal in one fatal swoop.

“Fai was able to find peace by learning how to channel his magic,” Sakura said. “For strong magic users, like the priest in Clow Kingdom, using magic is a way to express themselves.”

“Fai doesn't use his magic often, only in battle.”

“Kurogane doesn't talk a lot either,” Mokona said. She waved the jam jar in front of Kurogane.

He took it and loosened the lid for her.

“Maybe that's the solution,” Sakura mused. “You should try to use his magic in battle!”

“If we ever have one in this world, I will.” Kurogane frowned at his oatmeal. “This place is almost depressingly peaceful.”

“When he says stuff like this, you know it's Kurogane,” Mokona said to Sakura.

They finished breakfast, cleaned and packed for the trip.

“Hopefully we can find Syaoran soon,” Sakura said as they snuck into the Bonewood at the edge of town. “I don't want to miss Kensley's wedding.”

“She said that it's in the evening. I'll be very surprised if we take that long,” Kurogane said.

Almost in response, the branches above them shook, raining leaves down on them. For a moment, the sun filtering in was completely blocked.

And Syaoran was running in front of them.

He didn't stop, his head pointed upwards to track what was going on. As a result, he didn't notice Sakura, Kurogane and Mokona standing a few feet from him.

“I know he's single-minded,” Sakura said, stunned. “But this is a little over-the-top.”

“I'll get him.”

Kurogane chased after Syaoran. He tried calling after him, but couldn't get enough of a breath at the pace they were going at. They zigzagged between trees, running further away from Sakura and Mokona.

The shaking of the branches stopped and so did Syaoran, frowning at the tree tops. Finally, Kurogane was next to him, wheezing heavily.

“Fai!” Syaoran said surprised. “I've been looking for you.”

Kurogane was bent double. “When did you get so fast?”

“Am I? Kurogane's faster.”

Kurogane had to taken in several deep breaths before he could go on. “Sakura and Mokona are back there.”

At Sakura's name, Syaoran lit up. “Where? Let's go!”

He jogged at a pace which Kurogane could better maintain. Thankfully, they'd been running recklessly through the forest and left a path of beat-up moss and crumbled branches to follow.

Predictably, Syaoran and Sakura ran to each other at first sight. Mokona, whom Sakura was holding, came out of the meeting a little crushed.

“I'm so glad you're safe. I thought you'd been kidnapped by a dragon.” Syaoran wouldn't stop looking at Sakura and smiling.

“By a what?” Kurogane said.

“You too,” Sakura said. “I was alone for a bit, but Kurogane and Mokona found me.”

“Where is Kurogane?” Syaoran asked.

Sakura bit her lip. “This is going to take a bit of explaining.”

“What are you saying about a dragon?” Kurogane repeated.

First, they got Syaoran caught up on their side. The instant Syaoran learned about the body swap, he acted differently, standing straighter and no longer playing with Mokona's ears.

“You said that Sakura had been kidnapped by a dragon,” Kurogane said.

“Yes. Well, I thought she had.” He smiled ruefully at her. “Obviously Sakura's safe. There's a tower a little further into the woods. Sakura's been crying for help. Or at least, I thought it was her crying for help.”

“There's a tower?” Sakura turned to Kurogane. “Wouldn't something that big be visible from the village?”

Kurogane gave the only reason he could think of. “Magic.”

“I guess that would explain the dragon, too.” Syaoran said. “I've gotten a couple of looks at it. It's big with orange and yellow scales, like a fire. Despite its size, it flies through the canopy and disappears in an instant.”

The description didn't match the kind of dragons Kurogane knew. Kurogane's dragons were massive. They spat fire and ate cities and obliterated lives. What Syaoran described was almost whimsical in comparison.

“But it doesn't matter,” Syaoran said. “Sakura's here, not in a tower.”

“We're still missing Fai,” Sakura insisted. “The tower could have a clue. Right?” She looked at Kurogane.

Kurogane doubted the tower would reveal Fai's location. Although there could be a clue to the larger mystery at hand. “We have time to kill. Syaoran, can you lead us back?”

Syaoran's path was a wandering scramble through the forest as he chased the dragon. Finally, they reached Syaoran's campsite near the tower. A fire pit had been extinguished and Syaoran's cloak hung from a branch.

“Luckily, I was carrying our food. Without it, I don't know how I would have survived,” Syaoran said. “The tower is just up ahead.”

Though no one was around, all three followed Syaoran's lead in ducking behind a convenient set of bushes to spy on the tower. It rose like a stone giant from the forest floor. Its tip pierced the canopy. Ivy crept around its width, crawling up to the dark outline of a window.

“What's in there?” Kurogane looked up at the tower.

“Not me,” Sakura laughed.

Syaoran hesitated.

Curiosity killed the cat. And the archaeologist, apparently. More for Syaoran's sake than his own interest, Kurogane said, “Let's find out.”

“How?” Syaoran asked eagerly. He looked up at Kurogane with those big puppy eyes.

“Mokona can fly.”

“Not like that, Kuro-baka.”

Kurogane scooped Mokona up and brought her to eye-level. “I mean, you won't fall.” He reached his arm back and threw Mokona with all his strength. She somersaulted over and over herself on a fast trajectory to tower. The “wheeeee” she let out became more distant until she disappeared through the open window.

Kurogane grinned at his success.

“I wish Fai was here,” Sakura whispered to Syaoran, who nodded. The traitor.

“Mokona! What do you see?” he called up.

A tiny white blob imprinted on the dark window. “There's a lot in here. It's a storage room!”

“Can you tell who was responding to me?” Syaoran asked.

Silence. Then, “A bird! It's in a cage.” A multi-coloured creature flew out of the window and disappeared into the pine canopy. “Now it's not!”

“Mystery solved,” Kurogane said.

Syaoran, for his part, looked like a small part of him had died.

Sakura's face was uncharacteristically frosty. “You thought I was a bird?”

“I swear, she – it – sounded just like you!”

“It wasn't even human!” Sakura shrieked.

She was taking this a lot worse than Kurogane had when he was introduced to Kurogane-goat.

“Mokona, you can come down now,” Kurogane said, leaving the lovers to their quarrel.

No response.

“Mokona?” Still nothing. Kurogane's pulse shot up. He tore through the bushes to be at the base of the tower, looking up. “This isn't funny!”

Finally she stuck her little head out of the window, her long ears pointing down at Kurogane. “How is Mokona supposed to come down? It's far.”

Kurogane shrugged. “Jump. I'll catch you.”

Mokona wailed.

Sakura and Syaoran joined Kurogane to squint up at the tower window. They had either made up or put Mokona's fabricated peril over their argument.

“It is pretty far,” Sakura agreed.

“Only Sakura loves Mokona. Mokona should stay in this tower forever.”

Kurogane rolled his eyes. Hell, was everybody against him? He needed another adult to get this group under control.

Ignoring the fact that she could fly, he called up, “You said that it's a storage room. Is there anything up there you could use to come down?”

“There's a rope!”

Kurogane massaged his temple. “Tie it to something heavy and climb down!”

“There's nothing down there for Mokona!” she wailed. “Mokona will have to stay trapped in this tower forever until her kind prince comes to get her!”

“All this yelling is giving me a headache,” Kurogane muttered.

“I've got this, Kurogane.” Syaoran confidentially stepped forward. “Fair Mokona, let down the rope!”

“Ridiculous,” Kurogane muttered.

“Syaoran is a knight, not a prince,” Mokona called down. “Keep up with the story!”

Sakura stood next to Syaoran. “How about a princess?”

“Let's leave the meatbun here,” Kurogane muttered.

“You're as kind as Syaoran! Mokona would never force Sakura to do beg. A princess always has someone else do the work for them!”

Sakura frowned. “That's not quite right.”

“Everyone knows she can fly, right?” Kurogane said.

“Mokona's prince is kind and makes Mokona lots of tasty food.” As if that wasn't enough, she added, “and he's blond!”

Kurogane roared, “You didn't come down when I asked!”

“A brute like you could never be a prince.” In a smaller voice, she said, “I miss Fai.”

Of all the issues Kurogane wanted to take up with her, this wasn't one he could blame Mokona for. “I do, too. We'll find him tomorrow.”

“It's no fun to tease Kurogane without mommy,” Mokona sniffled. “It's more fun when we team up against Kuro-puro.”

“Don't call him 'mommy',” Kurogane pleaded.

“And Fai would save his strawberries for Mokona when we had them. He said Mokona was as sweat as a berry.”

“Fine. I'll give you an extra scoop of jam at breakfast,” Kurogane relented.

“Fai loves Mokona.”

Silence, this time from Kurogane. Finally, he said, “Mokona, you know that we all love you.”

“We love you, Mokona,” Sakura called up. “It's fun staying up late to talk!”

“Not anymore,” Mokona said. “Kurogane stole Fai and now Syaoran sneaks into Sakura's room and Mokona sleeps alone.”

Kurogane refused to look at Sakura and Syaoran. Based on their gaps, he knew that they were as red as he was. Not like it was any secret how far their relationship had evolved; they weren't kids anymore, but to Kurogane they would always be. He really didn't want to know their sexual proclivities.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled as loud as he could. “Mokona, you've done enough damage! Listen, we're going to be together for a long time. It's stupid to fight.”

Mokona's white body reappeared at the window. She climbed onto the window still haphazardly. The little fluff ball wasn't scared of heights. “Do you promise?”

“Promise what?”

“That we'll be together for a long time! Stupid Kurogane!”

“Yuuko asked you to map out the different worlds we go to. Fai and I said that we'd help you with that. So, yes, I promise that we'll be together and you can annoy me for a long, long time to come.”

Mokona mulled that over. “Now say the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“Love,” Sakura whispered.

“What? I already told you that we love you, Mokona.”

“No, no.” Mokona's long ears flapped as she shook her head. “I want Fai to say it.”

“Fai isn't here, you talking rabbit.”

“Then Kurogane can say it as Fai!”

“Fine! I fucking love you, you annoying mochi ball!”

Mokona disappeared back into the tower. For a moment, Kurogane was worried that he overdid it. A length of rope was hurled out of the window, nearly hitting Kurogane but for a side-step.

“Honestly,” Kurogane sighed. “So dramatic!”

Mokona didn't climb down the rope so much as slid, her tiny behind wiggling. Once safely landed, she approached Kurogane and raised her arms. “Mokona could really use a hug from mommy.”

Kurogane slammed his knuckles down on her head. “I told you not to call him that!”

Mokona burst into tears that were as fake as her tantrum. She waved her arms at Sakura. “Daddy hit me!”

Sakura giggled and scooped Mokona up. “I think they call that 'tough love'.”

“Why is there no such thing as 'soft love'?” Mokona asked, snuggling into Sakura's arms.

“There is.” Sakura and Syaoran exchanged a look that reminded Kurogane of when they found the clones, living happily together in a cabin by the sea. “But for some people, love doesn't come easy. It hurts for them and they think it must hurt for others.”

She was doing a very diplomatic job of talking around Kurogane.

“Can Mokona tell you a secret?”

Sakura nodded.

In an atrociously loud stage whisper, Mokona said, “Mokona knows. She only pretends so Kurogane has an excuse to act out. He needs special care, that one.”

“I'm right here,” Kurogane growled.

“Then listen and learn!” Mokona shouted at him.

Sakura gently pulled Mokona out of Kurogane's face.

Because he was looking for it, he spotted the stone easily. It lay on the ground next to the rope Mokona climbed down, as though unravelling the rope had dislodged the stone. Kurogane snatched it up and tucked it in his pocket with the other two.

They left the castle, following an aimless path that Sakura decided.

“What about the tower?” Syaoran said. “Shouldn't we investigate it?”

Pausing to pick tiny flowers that poked out of the moss, Sakura said, “I wouldn't worry.”

“Do you know where you're going?” Syaoran asked.

“Don't worry,” Kurogane said.

In no time at all, they had cleared the woods and were overlooking the village at the top of the downward sloping clearing.

Syaoran took in the view in awe. “How did you do that?”

Kurogane jerked his thumb back into the gloom of the forest. “It's a magic forest.”

“Oh,” Syaoran said, understanding instantly. “So the dragon won't be here?”

“I'd be pretty surprised if the forest could make anything as big as a dragon,” Kurogane said.

A shadow cast over them. Kurogane frowned, looking up, wondering if the magic had caused a tree to overgrow.

A dragon opened its hooked beak. With every flap of its wings, ashen leaves fell, turning the green grass of the clearing copper. Fire bloomed, deep down in its throat. Kurogane felt the heat on his face. He sensed the presence of Syaoran and Sakura, too close to him, too close to the dragon. He felt the loss of his sword keenly. Felt his flesh keenly, his muscles ready and taunt, his beating heart that held it all together.

The words sprang to his lips. His fingers reached up to carve them into the air. For the briefest moment, the letters shimmered and danced as the dragon's maw widened.

The words disappeared when the wind hit. With a howl like an inferno, a gale hit the dragon in full. It push back the fire it released and kept going, taking the scales that made the dragon and tearing them off, turning the dragon into leaves that scattered across the clearing.

“Was that the dragon you saw?” Kurogane gasped.

Syaoran had pulled Sakura several steps back. Even though the danger was gone, he still shielded her. “Yes,” he whispered.

Kurogane's body, Fai's body, was still tingling. In his mind echoed the words, Get back, a lingering thrill.

He turned around and saw Fiske.

“You can do magic.” Fiske's face was, as always, wooden.

“Yes,” Kurogane said after some hesitation.

“Come with me.”

Fiske was holding a hatchet. Kurogane didn't move.

“Now.” Her eyes darted to Syaoran and Sakura, newly assessing them as potential threats.

One girl with one blade could do a lot of damage if she was reckless enough. Kurogane needed to pacify her. “Alright,” he said.

Staying alert, he followed her into the village, trusting Sakura to take Syaoran to the cottage. She kept a long gait, putting distance between the two of them. The crunch of leaves beneath their feet turned into silence on the over-trod dirt roads of the village. Fiske led them down a narrow street, then into an alley near the centre of town between what Kurogane recognized as the bakery and the hall.

The villagers who were there paid them little mind, bringing out a table and building a platform. This is where Kensley's party will be, Kurogane realized.

“Shouldn't you be with your sister on her big day?”

“I had other errands to attend to.” She adjusted her hold on the hatchet. Little light filtered in through the narrow strip of sky. Half of Fiske's face was shadowed when she turned to Kurogane. She studied him. “Where did you learn?”

Even if this wasn't a hostile situation, Kurogane wouldn't know how to answer. He had done proper magic for the first time at the clearing. Fai had been surrounded by magic his whole life.

Instead, he tried answering what he thought was behind Fiske's question. “What happened out there, I didn't do intentionally. This body reacted when –”

“This body?” Fiske interrupted. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

Shit. Kurogane adjusted his stance, readying an attack. His options were limited. He could run away if Fiske started attacking him, but since leaving this world without Fai wasn't an option, he would have to confront her at some point. Which meant fighting now.

“I knew there was something off about you as soon as I met you,” Fiske said when he didn't answer. “Your eyes. They don't quite match the rest of what you are. Like a bird trapped in a house, tapping on the glass to get out.” She sucked on her cheeks, considering him. “You're not who you say you are.”

She said it as a fact. “No,” he conceded.

“And you're not from here. From this world, I mean.”

“No,” Kurogane said again. “We – me and my friends – we came from very far away. I came to Stigastr when I woke up in the Bonewood four days ago.”

“You woke up in the forest? And you can do magic?”

“Yes,” Kurogane said. Her manner changed, though Kurogane couldn't put his finger on how or why. His body began reacting to his emotion and like in the clearing, he felt magic at his fingertips, words pressing themselves against his lips.

Fiske's face broke. She stunned Kurogane by laughing. When she approached, Kurogane naturally took a step back.

“What are you so worried for? I'm with them, too.” Fiske winked.

Kurogane was shocked to see any emotion other than distrust on her face. The open smile was quite jarring. “'Them'?”

“The faeries,” she laughed. “Obviously they helped you come to our world.”

That thought had been swimming in Kurogane's mind. Maybe Mokona had delivered them into the world properly, as she always did, and the faeries interfered somehow to separate their group. They could also be responsible for transferring Kurogane and Fai's consciousnesses.

Kurogane had no idea what their motivation could be. Jumping from world to world taught him that spirits were diverse, both in their magical capabilities and capriciousness.

“My impression is that the villagers hate faeries. You don't seem to share their sentiments.”

“They're distrusting,” Fiske said, using the word Kurogane privately used to describe her. “They've passed folklore down for generations and get spooked by every little thing that happens in the Bonewood. But the faeries in the forest aren't anything like in those tales.”

“You've met them?”

“More than that.” Fiske looked around them. When she was satisfied there were no eavesdroppers, she pulled her left sleeve far back and showed Kurogane her arm. “I've been studying with them.”

The flesh and muscle of her inner arm had turned back from wrist to elbow, showing twin pillars of pure white bone. No cut, no blood, no sign of trauma. Fiske's face was glowing. “I'm going to become a faerie myself.”

Kurogane let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. “Will you introduce me to them?”

“Of course.” Fiske dropped her sleeve back over her exposed arm. “I'm meeting with my teacher, Ylva, at dusk. I'll talk to her about a rendezvous. Until then, try to keep your magic under wraps.”

Kurogane nodded. Fiske gave him a smile and turned to leave.

“Wait.”

She did. Some hair had escaped her ponytail, making her look messy and young. The image stood at juxtaposition his memory of her bones peeking out from muscle.

“Does your family know?”

Fiske shook her head. “My father would never approve. And my sister... well, she's already got her life in order. There's no scraps left for me.”

“So you carved your own path. That's honourable.”

Fiske smile went wry. “Is it? Is lying and deceiving your own family honourable?”

“Not that part. I hope that you can tell your family some day. They would be...” Kurogane searched for the right word. He was the wrong man to talk about this sort of stuff. “Relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“To know that you're putting your effort into accomplishing something you find worthwhile.”

“Instead of being a lazy clout who sleeps in all morning and forgets to milk the goat?”

Kurogane smirked. “Exactly.”

“I won't be able to hide it forever.” Fiske looked at her arm. With her sleeve down, nothing was out of the ordinary. “I hope that when the day comes, they can accept my choices.”

“Me too,” Kurogane said. “I'll keep your secret safe.”

“Thank you.”

They walked together to the cottage. Fiske slowed so that they were walking side-by-side. Apparently, seeing Fiske walking with anyone was bizarre enough to make every villager they passed turn their heads.

“I should probably get going if I'm going to make it back for the party. She's got married earlier today in a boring ceremony between the families. This is the fun part. Oh,” Fiske passed the hatchet to Kurogane. “I meant to give you this.”

Kurogane accepted it and thanked her. She left, clearly skimming the village to enter the Bonewood at an angle like he did.

He stuck his head in the cottage to let the kids know that he was alive. As though completely unruffled at his being led off by a girl with a weapon, Sakura and Syaoran had been making a late lunch. Kurogane's was too hungry to be bothered by their dispassion and told them what happened while they ate boiled eggs on toast and dried meats hammered with berries and seeds.

Afterwards, Sakura took Syaoran to introduce him to the goats. Kurogane went to the threshold of the Bonewood to chop fallen trees, happy to throw himself into the physical work.

He returned to the cottage with much more firewood than they needed. Syaoran had tea going and Kurogane took a cup outside where he sat on the grass. The scenes of the village played out below, but all he could think about was a golden-haired magician who would have loved playing house with the four of them.

Kurogane gathered that it was time for Kensley's party when he spied villagers starting to gather in the square. They each brought a dish, an unlit lantern and blanket folded under an arm.

Kurogane got up off the grass and brushed off the seat of his trousers. He came into the cottage. “I think we're supposed to bring something to this party.”

Sakura, miraculously, had turned out another bread loaf earlier that day. She tucked it in the prettiest towel Darby had lent her and stared down at it.

“After everything they've done, it just seems so...” she sighed. “Inadequate.”

“They liked the heartstone I gave them,” Kurogane mused out loud. “But honestly, I don't know what they'd do with another one, other than use it for decoration. Besides, I can't tell you what to do with your own heartstones. You earned them.”

“I already traded mine to Yuuko,” Syaoran said.

“What! When?” Sakura looked accusingly at Mokona.

“Mokona was asleep!”

“You ate something while you were asleep?” Kurogane asked. He squashed her into the table before she could give another excuse. “Never mind. I believe it.”

“I'm planning on sending mine to Clow Kingdom. What did you trade for?” Sakura asked Syaoran.

Syaoran frowned. “I don't know yet. I send her stuff in advance and she gives me items later when I request them. Since we're always asking her for favours, I thought it would be a good idea to build credit.”

“That's smart,” Sakura granted. “Should we make a trade now for a gift for Kensley?”

“Mokona has a better idea. But she won't say unless she's invited to the party.”

All three were silent.

“Mokona, the villagers are wary of magic,” Sakura began.

“Mokona knows that! She can hide really well.” Mokona curled herself into a ball. “Like this!”

“Alright,” Syaoran gave in with no real struggle. “You can come in my satchel. But promise me that you'll be very careful.”

Syaoran held out his pinkie finger. Mokona wrapped both paws around it and yelled, “Promise!”

“Will you tell us your plan, Mokona?” Sakura asked.

“Yes! It's so smart. Luckily for everyone, Mokona is a genius.” She stood on her tiptoes and stretched her arms and ears out. “The goats!”

Kurogane was actually impressed. “She's right, we'll only be here for one more day. They need a good home. The chickens can survive a while with only feed. I'll let Darby know about them.”

“And they're such sweet goats!” Sakura clapped her hands together. “Yes, it's perfect!”

Syaoran smiled. “Good job, Mokona.”

They separated to get dressed in their borrowed clothes. Kurogane let Syaoran have the bedroom after him, having set out what passed as a formal outfit in this village.

Sakura and Syaoran emerged from their bedrooms at the same time. Sakura was in the dress Kensley lent her, layered and edged in lace. Syaoran came out, red-faced in a layered dress edged in lace.

“How does this even fit me?” he asked.

Sakura pursed her lips together to keep from laughing. “In this world, men and women wear these outfits at formal occasions. Besides,” she put a hand to her mouth in the pretense of a cough. “It's not your first time in a dress.”

“Stop laughing at me.” Syaoran grinned at her.

Mokona plotted out of Sakura's room with a ribbon around her ear. “It's not fair that Kurogane looks like such a bumpkin!”

Kurogane adjusted his navy jacket set over a matching shirt and, most importantly, trousers. He grinned. “Darby only gave me one set of fancy clothes.”

Syaoran lifted a white sleeve. “How generous.”

Syaoran accessorized his dress poorly with his satchel. It was big enough to hold Mokona and he didn't mind if she got crumbs in it from snacking. They went to the barn with their party supplies where they were met with another surprise.

“I wanted to make sure they knew we loved them,” Sakura said, blushing.

“I'm impressed that you could get them to stay on.” Syaoran paused. “Wait, where's Kurogane-goat's flower crown?”

A few tell-tale petals lingered in Kurogane-goat's beard.

“I think he ate it,” Sakura said.

“He's like me after all,” Kurogane grinned.

They arrived in the village square at the edge of twilight. Lanterns were already being lit, set about the square like fallen stars. Groups in fancy dress milled about, mostly around the tables weighted heavily with food. Children raced around the empty space, the ribbons already coming loose in their hair.

Kensley and Brant on an elevated platform. Their chairs were close enough that, placing their hands on the arm rests, they could link their fingers. A ribbon also connected the twin circlets they wore. Kensley was beaming. Brant was more focused on his new wife than the guests presenting themselves to the new couple.

“I'm so happy you came!” Kensley gushed. Her face was flushed and she was practically vibrating with energy.

“I wouldn't miss it,” Sakura said in response.

“You look gorgeous!”

Syaoran tugged the lead for the goats. “These four have brought us luck. We thought that they would help you in your new home.”

Brant was delighted. “We can make goat cheese. Your favourite!”

Kensley stood up and made to jump off the platform to them. With a laugh, Brant tugged on their joint hands.

“I forgot!” she laughed. “Thank you so much! This is such a generous gift and I – I'll give you a hug later.”

Sakura giggled. “I'll tell you their names then.”

“I can show you where to keep your gift for now.”

Darby had come up behind them. He was in a taupe dress the colour of a fawn, his jacket embroidered with oak leaves. His happiness rivalled Kensley's.

“Congratulations,” Kurogane said.

Darby grasped his elbow. “It's a father's greatest pleasure to see his children happy.”

He thanked Sakura for the bread and told her to put it on the table. He and Kurogane left the kids to bring the goats to Darby's house.

“They still haven't made up their mind where to live.” Darby heaved the barn door open and was greeted by several clucks and baas. “Brant wants to help his dad out with the smithee and Kensley wants to stick around to help me out with the homestead. That's the problem when you raise good kids – they're always eager to help out.”

They got the goats settled in two empty stalls with fresh water and feed. After sealing the barn, Darby winked at Kurogane and gestured at him to enter the house.

“I've been saving this for a special occasion,” he said, digging through the cellar. He pulled out a bottle, its surface clouded with dirt. “Have you ever had bruni before?”

“No. What's it like?”

Darby smiled. “Let's just say, I hope that you don't have anything important to do tomorrow.”

He found two cups, filled them and they drank as they meandered back to the party.

Kurogane took a sip that forced him to stop. “Oh.” He shook his head. “That's good and strong.”

Darby laughed. “We usually drink it to get through the winter. I'll need it to get through this speech.”

He passed the bottle and his empty cup off to Kurogane to take his place on the podium next to Kensley. The smith and his wife joined Brant.

As they spoke, Kurogane dipped between villagers. Syaoran was glued tight to Sakura. They had interlocked their fingers while listening to the speeches. Kurogane stopped behind them, not wanting to break up the scene.

As he watched, Fiske appeared next to the podium. She caught Kurogane's eyes and gave a single, short nod. Tomorrow night, then. Kurogane took another swig of bruni.

The ceremony ended with Kensley and Brant trying a traditional dance while still wearing their connected circlets. They completely fell out of the tempo set by an enthusiastic violin and Brant ended up falling into Kensley. Laughing, they took the circlet off their partner and the crowd applauded.

The party started in earnest now. Cups were flowing much more freely. Somehow, more food was brought out. Instruments plucked into life and villagers began swinging around in the square.

“Kurogane!” Kensley appeared, Brant not far behind. “It's customary to receive a kiss for luck.”

Kurogane sighed. He bent down and Kensley kissed one cheek, Brant his other.

“I know you don't need the luck,” she whispered in his ear. “You'll find your last friend without a problem. The Bonewood lets you navigate it freely.”

Kurogane quickly looked to see if Brant had heard, but he had been distracted by another boy of his age congratulating him with hearty thumps on his back.

“I don't know what kind of magic you possess,” she continued, whispering so the crowd couldn't hear. “But it can't be bad. You're too good for that.”

Kurogane had to laugh at that. “You don't know who I am.”

“You're someone who went into a dangerous forest to search for his friends. Besides, Sakura trusts you.” Kensley spotted her in the crowd. “Is that her knight in shining armour?”

Syaoran and Sakura were eating off the same plate, commenting to each other about each new food item. Kurogane smiled. “Yeah.” With Kensley's head turned, he noticed it. “Brant made those hair clips for you.”

“Yes!” Kensley did a slow spin so Kurogane could see twin slivers of purple rock embedded in ornate metal foliage. Brant turned from his friend and smiled at her. “He gave them to me as a wedding gift.”

“Two?”

“Fiske gave me hers. She said she has no need for gems.” Kensley stood on her tiptoes to whisper to him again. “She's up to something. I don't blame her. I have two houses to occupy my time. That's never something Fiske's been interested in. So if she has something else, I'm happy to hear it.”

Brant murmured into the ear of his bride and Kensley giggled. “Thank you for coming, sir,” Brant said. They left to attend to the other guests.

Kurogane, of course, went to explore the food table. With his last glass of bruni, he had a variety of sandwiches, the bread nice and thin, the fish smoked and the greens fresh.

Syaoran came up to him holding a plate and mug. He adjusted the strap of his bag. “Mokona's gotten heavier than when the party started.”

“She's good for improvised weight training.” Kurogane looked nonchalantly ahead of them as Syaoran slipped folded pastries off his plate and into his bag.

“Where's Sakura?”

“Kensley brought her to the house so she could learn the name of the goats. You're smiling,” Syaoran said.

“It's funny. That some part of us is going to stay here in goat form.”

“Except Sakura,” Syaoran said softly. “She never named a goat after herself.”

Kurogane was silent. Syaoran was a left-over, a consequence from Fei Wang Reed toying with the logic of the universe. Even after Kurogane killed Fei Wang, freeing them from the trap of time, Syaoran could no longer stay in one place. He must forever keep going, ever progressing through time.

Without saying a word, Fai and Kurogane made a pact to stay with him. Fai no longer had a home to go back to and Kurogane had found two homes where he was at peace. Sakura, though... she was a princess. She had a kingdom to return to when she decided she was ready to wear the crown. Syaoran could only be apart of that in sliced fragments, spread out over their lifetimes.

“If that bastard was here,” Kurogane said, “he'd say not to worry about it until the time came. To enjoy your life as it is now.”

Syaoran gave him a small smile. “I've always appreciated how Fai would lie to us so we wouldn't worry.” He hesitated. “I'm... I'm worried about our future because I can remember our past.”

Their second mission had been to find the clones, wherever and whenever they were in the unlimited possibility of worlds. They finally found them in a city of cherry blossoms and blue sea skies where the other Syaoran and Sakura were waiting to see what fate had in store for them next. As soon as Syaoran and Syaoran and Sakura and Sakura landed eyes on each other, they became one. The duplicates were absorbed into their originals and with it came all of their memories and experiences.

Syaoran can remember living a whole life by Sakura's side. He can remember when he first kissed Sakura and holding their baby in his arms. He can remember the sick feeling of his sword sliding into her body and her staring back at him with love and pity.

They never spoke of it, but when they ventured to a new world, Syaoran would blink around him, as if he'd been there before. After a long day of walking, Sakura had a phantom limb in her leg. Kurogane could only imagine what it was like for Syaoran to look at Sakura and feel nothing; or for Sakura to remember Syaoran killing her. They smiled through it and that was a kind of courage that Kurogane could never understand.

“Sitting in the past has never served me well,” Kurogane said honestly. Maybe a bit brutally, given who he was talking to.

Even when they first met years ago, Syaoran's eyes held aged experience. He looked at Kurogane like a tolerant old man giving advice to a favoured grandson. “I know. I've always admired your ability to move forward. That's what I need to follow now.”

“She'll never forget you,” Kurogane said.

“I know,” Syaoran said, firmly.

He loosened up when Sakura came back. She and Kensley had stolen flower crowns from the goats and were balancing them on their own heads, laughing as wild flowers spilled from their hair.

“Syaoran, let's dance!”

Syaoran smiled.

Kurogane took his satchel, slinging Mokona over a shoulder, and watched them go. It was full night now, lit candles around the square flickering away darkness. The moon was full; a good omen for a wedding.

Darby appeared next to him, the bottle of bruni sloshing in his hand. “Kids,” he sighed happily.

“Yeah.” Kurogane smiled.

“Get some food and follow me.”

Kurogane didn't need to be told twice. He balanced two very full plates, stuffing a few buns in Syaoran's bag to keep Mokona content. Darby led him to the side of a house where a ladder reached the roof.

“It'll be a bit tricky,” Darby said, because he was very drunk and not a ninja.

As it was, Kurogane climbed up first and helped Darby. They walked on the beams under the pine boughs matting of the roof and found a good spot with a view of the square.

Kurogane passed Darby a plate and Darby passed Kurogane the bruni. He took a healthy swig and placed his mug on his other side, blocking Darby from the view of Mokona sneaking sips.

Syaoran and Sakura were whirling about, occasionally colliding with a neighbouring dancer.

“They're better at other things,” Kurogane explained.

“Sounds like you'll be giving away your kids soon,” Darby winked at him.

“Maybe,” Kurogane sighed. The bruni was working its magic, slowly loosening the tangle of his mind into straight lines. “They need to figure out what they want to do with their futures. It's so hard, being in another person's life other than your own.”

Kurogane didn't know if he was making sense, but Darby responded with, “Sometimes I miss it, having no obligations outside of yourself. Then I experience how much easier burdens are to bear when you have family to hold you up.”

“Yeah,” Kurogane said, the liquor making his mental about-face much, much easier. “It's nice to be with someone.”

“Yeah,” Darby echoed. His fingers overlapped Kurogane's hand where it was pressed against the pine roof.

Suddenly, Kurogane was sharply aware of their legs and shoulders pressed together; of how they were taking sips from the same bottle, eating off the same plate, up here on the roof where not many could see.

Maybe he was imagining things. But then, Darby's fingers encircled his wrist. Fai's wrist.

“Do you have plans to leave?” Darby asked. As drunk as he was, Kurogane wasn't imagining the hopeful notes in his question.

“Not yet.”

The fingers around his wrist started stroking, as though searching for his pulse.

“I have one more person left to find.” Kurogane waited until Darby stopped staring at triangle of open skin at his collar to meet his eyes. “He's the most precious person in all the worlds to me.”

“Ah.” Darby dropped his hand.

Kurogane took a sip of bruni, letting it burn a path down his throat. How did Fai deal with all this attention?

“My apologies,” Darby said. “I knew you were lonely and I find you very attractive.”

“I don't blame you,” Kurogane said.

“Huh?”

“I mean, it's fine. Your only fault this evening was giving me enough liquor to seriously dread the morning.”

That had Darby laughing. Darby told him about his own wedding, joking about wearing his father's dress which had to be expanded by a yard to fit him, and growing misty-eyed when talking about how his wife hauled their wedding gift of a very stubborn bull halfway across the village to their new house.

The night ended at the edges of the morning. Kurogane made sure Darby got down and to his house safely. He accepted a rather wet kiss on each cheek as Darby cried about things never being the same again. In the end, Kurogane felt compelled to stay until Darby was snoring healthily on the couch.

He had waved good-bye to Syaoran and Sakura hours before. He walked home alone, judging the risk low enough to pull Mokona from his bag.

“So uncharacteristically nice, Kurogane,” Mokona said, snugging against his thumb. “It was getting stuffy in there.”

“Are you happy you got to eat?”

“Of course,” Mokona sighed. “But the nerve of that guy! Mokona was going to give him her special Ear Cyclone Shield attack if he kept coming on to you!”

“That would have done nothing.”

“Wrong! Mokona is very strong. Kurogane makes her walk everywhere.”

“Keep it up and I'll make you walk home.” Kurogane yawned. The blue dark had settled restfully around them as it does at dawn, ready to bolt at the merest hint of sunlight.

They turned and the cottage was at the end of the road, up a gentle slope. Syaoran and Sakura were already asleep, no doubt, and would take over the chores when they woke up. That gave plenty of time for Kurogane to get a full sleep before they left for the Bonewood with Fiske in the evening.

“I wonder if I'll dream,” he mused.

“What is Kurogane talking about?”

“Nothing, meatbun,” Kurogane said, stuffing her back into Syaoran's satchel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	5. A bastard of a magician

_He's going to have to learn how to be alone eventually_ , Fai thought, a little cruelly, as Syaoran walked away. He took his path, separate from Sakura.

Five gems stones in five different places that had to be plucked from their homes at precisely the same time. A challenge that isolated them. Yuuko certainly demanded a lot in payment.

Syaoran stalked solidly down his path, eyes set straight ahead, shoulders back. Hurrying to snag his heartstone so he could hurry back to meet everyone again.

Fai turned to Kurogane and said –

~~~

Kurogane awoke to a bright, sunshiny afternoon that had an air of finality to it. From the other side of the thick wooden door came the sounds of housework and the occasional chirp from Mokona.

With nothing to rush to, Kurogane closed his eyes. The downward curve of Fai's lips stayed fresh in his mind. He noticed then. He should have done something.

While Fai was becoming better at putting words to his feelings, he still sometimes scattered lies about himself, hoping to distract others from noticing the weight pulling on him. Kurogane knew a thing or two about despair, about how it grew inside, unchecked, until it became big enough for a man to fall into.

Kurogane needed to do better for Fai.

He threw off the covers and swung out of bed.

The kids were recovering steadily from the previous night, distracting themselves with a quiet lunch that emptied the pantry.

Kurogane, after eating four bowls of stew, let his spoon clang into his bowl. “We have to clean this place before we leave.”

Syaoran gently rested his head against the table. “I was afraid you would say that.”

Between long breaks, they swept and dusted and scrubbed. They beat the rugs and washed the linens and threw fresh straw into the barn. When Kurogane topped off the pile of firewood, the kids were looking much more like themselves and the sun had started its descent.

Kurogane changed into Fai's many layers of clothing, feeling like the fur-lined coat was a bit much for spring. The outfits they had borrowed from Darby's family were lying on the beds, washed and folded.

Sakura spied Fiske coming up the path to their house. No one else was out, being that it was past dinner and the time when people usually kept to their houses.

Kurogane firmly shut the door to the cottage he'd called home for the past week. He thought about what Sakura said when she left the cabin in the woods and pressed his hand to the sturdy wood door. “Thanks.”

“A blessing?” Fiske asked, coming up behind him.

“I guess it is.”

Knowing they'd never met formally, Kurogane introduced Mokona.

“I knew it! Let me guess. Another missing friend?” Fiske asked.

Mokona wiggled her paws in Syaoran's arms. Fiske's edge immediately softened. “Mokona isn't lost anymore!”

For the last time, they entered the Bonewood.

In the growing night, Fiske summoned a pale globe to her hand. When she held it to her face, she revealed a mask of tiny silvery leaves. They were stitched together to resemble the skin of a fish rippling in the light. Her hood was pulled up so that only her mouth was showing.

“Stay close. There's magic in these woods created to lead visitors astray. Although,” Fiske said after consideration, “I'm sure you already know that.”

They entered single-file, Fiske in the lead and Kurogane at the end. He was on high alert, his attention divided between the small moon that Fiske held and making sure Sakura and Syaoran followed her path. The night dyed the forest blue, making the trees rising sapphire and the moss deep water. From slim breaches in the canopy, Kurogane caught the glittering of tiny stars, far, far away.

“Hold,” a female voice rang out.

Their party obeyed immediately. Kurogane squinted, trying to identify new motion in this sea of indigo. From the abyss, a circle of tiny flames sprung into existence. They framed the fearsome visage of a snarling wolf.

“Are these the travellers you spoke of?” the wolf asked.

No. Not a wolf. The illusion broke the more he looked. She, too, was wearing a mask. The same soft moss they were walking on had been moulded into the ears and snout of a wolf. The teeth were mismatched, salvaged from the forest floor. The eyes were empty hollows.

“Yes.” Fiske introduced them quickly in turn, including Mokona. “And Kurogane. The one I told you about,” she added.

The flames danced around the wolf mask. “I've seen you before.”

“I've been in your forest a lot,” Kurogane said. “Searching for my friends.”

“And yourself?”

Kurogane breathed in sharply. Sakura rested her fingertips on the back of his hand, a light touch she typically reserved for Fai.

“This is Ylva, my teacher. She's one of the faeries who governs this forest.”

“My darling Fiske.” Ylva reached out. As she brought them into the light, Kurogane saw that her hands were thin strips of bone, no doubt held together by magic. She placed them over Fiske's mask, on her cheeks. “Now, I call you student. Soon, I will call you sister.”

Fiske beamed.

Ylva led them deeper into the woods, until the sky was completely blotted out and the shadow of trees ran out. One by one, the flames around Ylva extinguished. Fiske closed her hand and they were in darkness.

“Syaoran,” Kurogane whispered. “Sakura, Mokona.”

“I'm here,” Sakura whispered back. He felt her groping at his arm, settling where she found purchase.

“Me, too.” Syaoran had his hand.

“Mokona would never leave her snacks. And Syaoran has the snacks.”

The tension in Kurogane's chest lessened significantly.

They stood in black silence for a long moment.

Ylva said, “The council has assembled,” and then the forest was lit in a blaze of light.

Kurogane's hold on the kids tightened as he blinked to adjust to the new lighting. They were in a clearing, almost as big as the village of Stigastr. Stars decorated the canopy, showing stacks of stones and branches tangling to make structures out of short, stubby trees. The new light seemed to surprise the humans exclusively, as a herd of deer that had been sleeping only lifted their heads slightly before setting them down again in peace. White flowers blooming through the moss opened to cast more light on the scene.

In the centre of the clearing were four old stumps rotted down the middle. High backed and in a perfect circle, they looked like thrones.

Ylva strode forward. Now, in artificial daylight, Kurogane could tell that the moss which made her mask continued downward into a dress as furry as the underbelly of a dog. Her arms were bare of everything, moss, skin, muscle, sinew. Her white bones shimmered in the brilliance.

Ylva took one of the thrones, Fiske standing at attention behind her. Ylva gestured to her other side. Four toadstools, purple and milky gray, grew promptly at her command. “Please, sit.”

Sakura arranged her cape as she sat, Syaoran taking the seat next to her.

Mokona took the highest toadstool, leaving the shortest for Kurogane. The toadstool bounced slightly when he plopped down on it. His knees stuck out awkwardly.

Sakura immediately noticed. “Kurogane, did you want to trade –”

“I'm fine.” He eyed Mokona making herself at home at the tall toadstool Ylva had clearly conjured specifically for him.

She flopped on her stomach. “Syaoran, do you have any more of that fish jerky?”

“Sure.” Syaoran passed over a thick slice.

Kurogane huffed.

As he stewed, he almost missed the other figures coming out of the forest gloom to occupy the remaining three thrones. All had masks. All were sparsely clothed. All were made up of bones, picked clean of flesh.

“Ylva,” one spoke. His mask was carved from wood, extending at the nose to a long, curved beak Kurogane recognized. His dress was a fanciful and clever working of earthy brown petals ending in a white train. “You've brought us guests.”

“More than your little student,” said a woman. She had a veil of birch bark. Two antlers, great enough to rival the nearby sleeping deer, sprouted from her head. She held a carved ram's horn in her bony hand. She delicately moved the veil just enough to drink from the horn.

“Gron,” Ylva said to the man dressed as an eagle. “Limar Losna,” to the woman with antlers. With humour, she said, “Do try to behave yourselves.”

“Apologies.” Gron stared at them like he was picking them apart to eat. “We don't often get guests is what I'm trying to say.”

“And whose fault is that?” The last to join was a hulking figure. Strips of bark formed rough armour and an even rougher mask of a bear. The stump throne groaned when he sat in it.

“Bjarke,” Limar Losna said, delighted. “Good, now we can start.”

“A moment.” Bjarke shifted in his throne, the bark armour bouncing against his bones. The stump grew in width and Bjarke was finally able to lean back comfortable. “I ask again that we consider assigned seating.”

“Denied,” the other three council members said in unison.

“Very well,” Bjarke said, unperturbed. “Before we begin celebrations, I believe Ylva has a matter she'd like to address.” He regarded the humans impassively. The hollow eyes of the mask gave away nothing.

Ylva gestured to the four of them sitting on their toadstools. “We all remember these four, yes?”

“Those troublemakers!” Gron said, delighted. “Yes, of course.” He pointed at Syaoran. “I did enjoy playing games with you.” His voice raised and morphed. “Syaoran, only you can save me.”

Sakura gasped. “You were the bird calling to Syaoran from the tower!”

“And the dragon,” Kurogane added.

“I led the little one up the tree,” Bjarke laughed heartily, his ribs rattling within his armour. “I knew you were strong enough to handle it!”

Mokona waved her half-eaten jerky in the air. “Mokona's the strongest of the group!”

“I'm nicer than they are.” Limar Losna was slouched in her chair, regarding them. “Although the safety of a home can have its own trappings.”

“What were the chickens and goats really?” Sakura asked.

“The chickens are grouse, the goats are squirrels.”

“Ew.” Kurogane wrinkled his nose. Hopefully, Kensley would never notice. “Why did you do any of that? Why not leave us be?”

“It's not like we can play with the villagers anymore.” Gron's beak dipped low. “They don't like our games.”

“I can understand their point of view,” Sakura said, practising her ambassador skills.

“I can't.” Limar Losna laughed, the flute-like sound echoing around the clearing. “Isn't playing tricks fun?”

“No,” said Kurogane at the same time Mokona cheered, “Yes!”

“Although, I suppose it's better that you tricked us instead of the villagers,” Syaoran mused aloud. “They really seem to hate magic.”

“They're boring,” Gron agreed.

“Now that the games are over, we can celebrate our budding friendship.” Bjarke stomped a bark-covered foot on the ground. A spring opened in the middle of their circle, shooting ten feet high and lightly misting the air with what smelt like wine. More mushrooms sprung up and immediately turned over, becoming cups for drinking. Parcels wrapped in leaves floated down from the canopy above them. Upon landing softly on the floor, they unwrapped to reveal morsels of bread, cheese, pickled vegetables and jams.

The council clearly felt as though they had ended things and now was the time to celebrate.

“Wait!” Kurogane stood up. His fists were balled at his side.

“What else do you need?” Bjarke already had a mushroom cup full of the earth wine. A curling vine served it to him.

“We're searching for a friend. You've been dancing around the issue this entire time. If you have any information, tell me where he is!”

“Or else what?” Bjarke looked up from his wine. His bear mask seemed to snarl. Was his armour always so big?

“Kurogane,” Sakura said softly behind him.

He did a quick tally of assets in his head. The best weapon they had was Syaoran's sword, once he summoned it. Kurogane wondered if he could break one of these fledgling trees into a staff. He wondered how Fai's body would react to his martial arts prowess.

As if reading his mind, Limar Losna laughed, “You'd have to be very stupid to fight us.”

“Or very brave,” Ylva said. She was making her selection from Fiske's offering.

Sakura's skirts rustled as she stood up. “We have no reason to fight,” she said in that wide-reaching stately voice she'd grown into. “You haven't harmed us. We should show the same respect.”

It was as close to commanding Kurogane as she'd ever gotten. A vision of Fai kneeling to Sakura passed through Kurogane's mind unbidden. He felt pressure on his lips, a ghost sensation of kissing Sakura's hand. The hollow part of his chest throbbed.

“But they know something,” Kurogane ground out.

“Maybe we do,” Limar Losna twinkled.

“Maybe we don't,” Gron cackled.

His hands were tied. Four enemies to one. Five, if Fiske got involved. And Ylva was close enough to rip Sakura's throat out in a single move. Do you solve every problem with your fists? Fai had once asked.

The word float to his lips. “Please.” Kurogane sank to the ground. He pressed his forehead on the soft moss. It was a gesture of respect from his homeland, and he hoped it would translate here. “Please help me find him.”

“He's staying in the willow tree,” Ylva said simply.

Kurogane rocketed off the ground. He turned to look at her. “What?”

“Your friend. The one who's occupying your body.” Though the eyes of her mask were hollow, Kurogane felt like she was seeing straight through him. “He's been staying with us these past couple days. We put him up in the willow tree.”

“Delightful fellow,” Gron added. “Very interested in magic, though he can't do any in his current state.”

“He's much fun,” Limar Losna agreed. “He told us not to tell you where he was unless you humbled yourself. Although he did ask that you not get his outfit dirty in the process.” It was difficult to tell with the veil, but she seemed to stare at his knees where dirt and moss were pressed from his capitulation.

“Pulled a sword out of his arm,” Bjarke grunted, as though this was a sign of excellent character.

“Where is he?” Kurogane asked Ylva, adding “please” like it would conjure Fai up then and there.

“Fiske will show you the way.”

A squeeze on his shoulder. Syaoran was smiling at him encouragingly. Sakura was nearly tearing up, she was so happy. “Go get him.”

Kurogane moved to follow Fiske. He paused, calling over his shoulder at the kids, “Don't eat any –”

Mokona had already put away half a loaf of bread.

“Don't worry. All the food is safe,” Fiske explained as they walked.

“If it isn't, Mokona will let us know.”

Kurogane hadn't realized that he had made a joke until Fiske laughed. Then he joined in laughing too, and suddenly every step he took made him giddy. The body he was borrowing felt lighter, less compressed. Except for his chest, which grew more and more tender, he was feeling amazing.

As they moved away from the celebration, more flowers started to bloom in the moss, keeping them in an aura of light. At the edge of the clearing, Fiske stopped. She gestured for Kurogane to continue on his own.

Three more steps and he saw himself. Fai, as Kurogane, was tall and dark, dressed in a linen sleeveless shirt and trousers that were moth-eaten up to the knees. He was crouched in front of a willow tree where every bulb on the branch glowed, illuminating a plank of wood with mysterious leaves laid upon it. Fai picked one up and squinted at it. Having made a decision, he plopped it into his mouth, shuddered, and made an X mark on the plank with a stone.

Kurogane approached him, his long coat whispered against the moss. He bent next to Fai.

“Guess it was stupid of me to think that you'd sweep me off my feet and kiss me until daybreak,” Fai said. He selected another leaf and ate it. This time, he placed a circle on the board.

“You're too tall for me to pick you up,” Kurogane responded. He couldn't help the corner of his lips pulling up. “Fai.”

Fai turned to look at him and smiled back. “I'd say it's nice to see you, but that's not exactly what's happening here, is it?”

“I knew you'd be off making trouble somewhere.” Kurogane brushed his fingers along Fai's jaw.

“Really?” Fai stared at him impassively and, oh god, is that what Kurogane looked like? What a frightening mug. It's miraculous that he didn't scare Fai off when they first met. “You didn't think I needed rescuing? Or supervision?”

“No,” Kurogane said. “I never thought that. I thought – or, I should have said – that I want to be with you. Always.”

Kurogane hoped that was enough because his throat suddenly became thick and he wasn't sure if he could speak anymore.

“You look uncharacteristically pathetic,” Fai said. “Like you're waiting for someone to rescue you.” He broke into a grin. “How can I resist that?”

Kurogane sighed and all the tension in his body released. He stood up, stretching a bit. “What have you been spending your time doing?”

“Apparently the faeries had a problem with their food a while back. A human ate a mushroom that messed him up a bit. Guess he thought he was a duck or something?” Fai stood up too, abandoning his weird experiment. “Anyways, now that they're recruiting again, they want to identify foods that humans can and can't eat. I guess Fiske had been bringing in stale bread for their nightly feasts.”

“That's good.” Kurogane paused. “How are you testing it? You can't do magic in my body.”

“I'm just eating it and seeing what happens,” Fai said. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Kurogane said.

“I took care of your arm.” Hesitantly, Fai lifted the robotic limb, his sword stored safely inside with magic. He caressed Kurogane's face. “You look so... innocent.”

“You're anything but innocent, you lying asshole.”

Fai's hand dropped. “I suppose I can't compliment you without complimenting myself, too. You beautiful bastard.”

Kurogane grinned. “Cock-sure fuck.”

“Oh, I am sure of that. Come on. Let's join the party.”

Fai led the way, self-assured in picking his way through the gloom. Kurogane recognized it as his own habit. “How are our kids?”

“Syaoran's worried he'll leave Sakura again. Sakura's taking her future role as princess too seriously.”

“Same old,” Fai said. Kurogane studied his face, looking for a hint of what he knew must be there. But Fai's neutral banally content mien paired with Kurogane's perpetual pissed-off expression left no room for concern about the others. “And our fury baby?”

“She wrote an eighty-six verse ballad. I'm warning you now.”

Fai smiled, demure, quiet, small. Kurogane hated it.

“I missed Mokona's antics.”

“I found her first. I'm just happy that I didn't have to deal with her and you teaming up against me.”

“There's plenty of time for that, Kuro, my dear. And how were you?”

“I was okay.”

“Still haven't lost your talent for language! Let me guess: You worried all the time without saying anything, but things always ended up fine?”

Kurogane said nothing. That was all Fai needed to hear to make him smirk.

The party was in full swing when they arrived. Sakura, Syaoran and Mokona had done a spectacular job of ignoring Kurogane's warning. Their plates towered with honey-coated breads, poached potatoes, dried and candied fish and greens fried with garlic and ginger. Gron was putting more on their plates, round biscuits that Mokona raved about.

Bjarke greeted their arrival by rising his goblet. The kids made to get up, but Fai gestured that they should sit. He crouched in front of where they were perched on the mushrooms so that he was looking up at them.

“Kurogane says that you've been very helpful,” he said to Sakura. To Syaoran, “and that you've been very brave.”

“Mokona's been both helpful and brave!”

“That's why you get the biggest plate,” Fai laughed. “Have you tried any of the shellfish yet? It's cooked in wine.”

“Fai, I'm so happy to see you again,” Sakura said. “But you're not really Fai yet.”

Fai flexed Kurogane's muscles. “I also prefer my lithe, agile form. We make do with what we can.”

“I'm fast, too,” Kurogane snapped.

“What do we do about – ?” Syaoran started.

“Uh, uh.” Fai stood up. With a hand on his hip and the other shaking a finger at the kids, he made Kurogane look truly ridiculous. “That's enough worrying for one party. Tonight, we feast!”

“And drink,” Limar Losna called out.

“And drink!”

“And dance,” Ylva said.

“And dance! It'll help us to digest the feast.”

Kurogane found himself between Fai and Limar Losna, the former stacking plates for the both of them and the latter tipping the contents of her bottomless flask into Kurogane's cup. The juice was thick and sweet and disappointingly non-alcoholic. Bjarke tossed him a flask of wine that did good work in making him tipsy.

Kurogane tasted everything Fai put on his plate. His favourite was a dish of mushrooms, thinly sliced and cooked heavily with herbs and butter. The bread soaked up the sauce, making a mess that Kurogane gladly licked off his fingers before he got seconds.

He relaxed on his low, bouncy toadstool. An owl flickered through the trees and the group watched in silent appreciation. Fiske left Ylva's side, quietly approaching the owl where it paused on a low branch. The way the owl regarded Fiske with its head tilted completely to the side and the way Fiske approached it, slow but determined... Kurogane knew there was magic afoot.

Fiske raised her arm. The owl transferred to it from its branch. Under her mask, Kurogane knew she was smiling.

Fai whispered to him, too low for Limar Losna or Gron to hear. “They use an ancient magic created by the forest itself. The magic is passed on from master to disciple. As they gain magic, they become part of the fabric of nature here.”

“Have you seen something like this before?”

“I've read about it.”

Kurogane made a discrete gesture to Fiske who was waving good-bye to the owl flying off. “Is she any good?”

A corner of Fai's mouth lifted as he looked at Kurogane. “Amazing.”

Bjarke came off his throne and let out a roar. A stag appeared at the edge of the clearing, regarding the group with narrowed eyes. Bjarke called out again and ran. He and the stag clashed, Bjarke wrapping his skeletal fingers around the stag's horns. They pushed against each other, trying to shake the other off. Kurogane, who enjoyed martial sports, watched keenly, observing Bjarke's technique as he managed to wrestle the stag to the ground.

Then he fought a long cat. He threatened to call a bear when Ylva stood and shook out her mossy robe. “Thank you for your demonstrations, Bjarke. Now, let's stretch and dance.”

Ylva's movements were fast and strong, the fine cloth of her dress flying out to follow the arc of her body. As she moved, the sounds of the forest began to pulse in a way that was more organized, less scattered. Ylva's steps echoed like the hooves of a beast keeping tempo, her howl haunting and angelic. The music of the crickets rose to a crescendo and Fai was pulling at his arm, laughing.

They spun in circles, made messy by Kurogane's lack of rhythm and the wine pulsing through his veins. Syaoran and Sakura were even less talented drunk. Kurogane laughed when Fai bumped into Sakura and abruptly switched partners, leaving Kurogane and Syaoran at the mercy of Mokona's fan dance.

“Watch the shins,” Kurogane grumbled, hobbling out of the way of the knee-height whirling white vortex.

He caught Syaoran staring. “What?”

Syaoran removed his hand from mouth. “Nothing. You're really not Fai. But you don't seem like Kurogane, either.”

“You're drunk,” Kurogane said accusingly.

“Yeah,” Syaoran sighed happily.

Mokona gave up her fans then and forced Syaoran to dance with her. He bent in half to twirl her, her floppy ears flying out.

At the edge of the happy scene, Fiske was leaving for the forest. Kurogane ran, stopping her.

“You're going by yourself?” he said. “Is that safe?”

Fiske laughed. “I'm more dangerous than anything in this forest. Besides,” she nodded to their lit circle. “I have friends in high places.”

They watched the dancers from the edges of the party for a moment longer.

“We're lucky,” Fiske said in a low voice, “to have two families.”

Kurogane realized then what Fiske had seen in him, the familiarity they shared. “Good luck with your studies,” he said.

“Maybe I'll see you again.” She pulled up her hood. “I'll tell my father you said good-bye.”

The darkness of the forest ate up her shadow. Kurogane stared a while longer, seeing black shapes twist over his eyes.

When he returned to the party, Fai had relinquished Sakura and was searching for a new dance partner. He met Kurogane's gaze and meant to step forward. But Gron grabbed Fai's wrist and started a high-energy, fast-stepping jig.

Kurogane narrowed his eyes. He tried to cross the empty space, forcibly halted by Bjarke shaking his mass across the dance floor.

Limar Losna materialized next to him. “I don't dance,” she said in her smooth drawl. “But I can still act as gatekeeper.”

“Is this my final trial?” Kurogane asked.

“We gave you four trials,” she said. “Because that's how it's done in these parts. This is just because we like that ridiculous boy.”

“What do you want?”

She waved her flask in front of him. “What are you willing to give to be with him?”

Kurogane gave the first answer that came to him. “Anything.”

“That's stupid,” Limar Losna said. “That's not love.”

“You're right,” Kurogane said and moved around her.

Gron's wild motions brought Fai to him. Kurogane reached out to Fai's outstretched arm and reeled him in.

“Thank you!” Fai gasped. He was leaning against Kurogane. Unusually, Kurogane had to look up at him. “It's too late and I'm too stuffed with delicious food for that kind of work out.”

Kurogane had a good grip on Fai's arm and no desire to let go. “Where can we stay?”

Fai lit up. “I already have the rooms sorted out!”

He waved his free hand to Sakura and Syaoran to get their attention. They were both equal parts tipsy and sleepy. Their dancing had changed to rhythmic swaying and they were standing a touch closer than they would sober.

Fai walked to them, and by extension, so did Kurogane. Ylva had stopped her dance then, though the forest hadn't fully quieted, always busy with the whisper of insects and hush of wind through the trees. Her shoulders heaved in time with her quick breath and a soft energy vibrated from her. “Will you take care of your guests, Fai?”

“Yep! Thanks for the food and show.”

They said their thanks and made their bows and followed Fai out the clearing. Mokona was sitting on Syaoran's shoulder. He laughed about how heavy she had become and Mokona joked that Syaoran was becoming weaker and that made Sakura giggle in turn. Mushrooms glowed as they past, guiding their way.

Fai stopped at a particularly thick tree. “Faerie homes are smaller than what we're used to,” he explained. “Sakura, Syaoran and Mokona, you three can stay here. Kurogane and I will be nearby.” He pointed at another thick trunk, decorated similarly to this tree with pebbles pushed into the bark.

Kurogane automatically looked up. Fai laughed at him. “Here's the door.”

His fingers ran along the bark of the kids' tree and disappeared into a shadow.

Kurogane took a step away, still carefully holding Fai, to see the trick. From another angle, he could see the hole in the trunk.

“It leads down,” Fai explained. “There's a room at the bottom and two more rooms connected off of that. You'll be quite comfortable.”

They thanked him. Kurogane only let go of Fai long enough for Sakura to wrap her arms around him. “I'm so glad we found you,” she breathed.

“So am I, Princess,” he whispered into her hair.

Syaoran, cradling a sleeping Mokona in the crook of his arm, assisted Sakura into the hollow tree. He whispered, “See you in the morning,” and followed her down.

Fai stayed a second longer. “You know,” he said, walking with Kurogane to the tree he had pointed out before, “I didn't realize how much older they've gotten until I hadn't seen them for a while.”

“You're very right to give them their own space,” Kurogane said.

“They get their private space, we get ours.” Fai pulled his arm from from Kurogane's grip and made a sweeping gesture to the tree. “Beauty before age.”

Kurogane snorted at that. He hesitated at the entrance, but at seeing stairs and light, proceeded down.

The way down was longer than he expected. It ended with a large room. The roots of the tree dangled from the ceiling, some sort of mineral caught in their tangled mess that glowed, causing a permanent light. That, combined with fireflies intruding through slanted holes that acted as vents, showed a comfortable room dug into the dirt. Heavy rugs and tapestries disguised the dirt floor and walls. Quilts weighed on a bed with a beautiful headboard made of braiding young, green twigs together. The furniture was a chestnut wood in need of varnish. Besides a snug table with chairs tucked tight against it, a bureau boasted a chipped basin and pitcher, already full.

Kurogane slug off Fai's bag and tucked it against the bureau. “This is similar to what the villagers have,” he said suspiciously.

“Then I didn't miss much not being in the village.”

The pouches Kurogane kept on his belt were tipped haphazardly on the table, some of the contents spilling out. Fai, obviously accustomed to snooping through them, picked up a few items and hid them behind his back.

“If the faeries were stealing from the village, the villagers would have added that to the list of infractions against the Bonewood.” Kurogane tried to see what Fai was hiding behind his back, but Fai, as light-footed in Kurogane's body as he was in his own, dodged.

Fai wearing Kurogane's face was inscrutable. “The faeries never stole anything.”

Kurogane reassessed the room, taking in the age of the furnishings and neglect. “They were given,” he said in dawning realization. “The villagers and faeries used to trade.”

“Quite frequently,” Fai said. “Until the villagers overworked and overhunted the Bonewood. The faeries at the time banished humans from the Bonewood until they had time to recover. But time is different to an animal, to a human, a faerie. So the villagers forgot and, based on what you said, found a new history to take the place of their forgotten memories.”

“Not entirely,” Kurogane said, remembering the hunting parties entering the forest, the gardens next to each cottage, the variety of fish and meats. “They're careful about what they pull from the other forest and river now. They learned their lesson.”

“That's why the faeries don't find a reason to bother them,” Fai said. “Unless a human willing comes into the Bonewood.”

“Or are dropped there by a meatbun.” Kurogane sighed. “That's one mystery solved.”

“Only one? How many mysteries do you have, Detective Kurogane?”

“When I woke up in your body,” Kurogane said. “I knew I would have to be careful.”

If Fai's face could get any more bland, it did. He stepped away to hide his items behind a pillow, then sat on the bed. “What do you mean?”

“You're the strongest man I know, other than myself.” They had both been tested by unseen enemies, forcing them into who they were today. “More than anyone else, I understand that when a brittle rock is hit, it doesn't just chip – it shatters into a million pieces.” Slowly, not breaking eye contact, Kurogane unbuttoned his many jackets. He showed Fai the gaping hole in his chest. “I hurt you,” he said.

Fai gestured for him to come closer. Kurogane sat on the big bed next to Fai. Fai leaned in to inspect the hole. Kurogane's breath ruffled the dark, thick hairs of Fai's head.

Fai hummed, poked at the edges a bit. Kurogane winced. “You didn't break me,” Fai laughed. “Kurogane, you're always so overdramatic about the people you care about. It's one of the things I love about you,” Fai added, considering.

Kurogane was left breathless. Then it all came back to him in a swoop. “What the hell are you talking about!” He covered the hole with a hand. “This is nothing to laugh at!”

“Please tell me I don't look that ridiculous when I'm upset.” Fai poked at Kurogane's cheeks. “You're all red.”

Kurogane swatted away the hand.

“What I'm saying is, I've had that wound for a long time.”

“That's impossible,” Kurogane said. “I would have noticed.”

“Yes, because you're very attentive in bed. Granted, it's never been a literal hole in my chest, but I've always felt it.” Fai was up again, at the table, rummaging through Kurogane's pouches. He tossed something small and hard at Kurogane. “I wondered what this was about.”

Kurogane caught the object. It was Fai's heartstone, obtained in their last world and turned to stone in this one. The ripples across the stone were familiar to Kurogane. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the stones he found at the base of Mokona's honey tree, in Sakura's cottage and beneath Syaoran's dragon.

Fai joined him at the bed. “Yes, that makes more sense.” He took the stones and rearranged them, fitting edges together until he was left with one, whole stone the same size and shape as the hole in Kurogane's chest.

“I never would have thought...” Kurogane trailed off. An emotion had finally broken through the hard mask Fai wore. He was staring at the stone with a combination of regret, self-pity and melancholy. Fai ran his fingers around the seams of the stone. A twin tickle lit down Kurogane's back.

“Will you help me?” he asked Fai.

“I can't say no. You've done this for me so many times before.”

Carefully, Fai picked up the whole stone. He had to squeeze tight to keep the pieces from slipping out and Kurogane felt a twin sensation in his gut. Kurogane put his hand on the bottom of the stone. He wasn't surprised to find it a comfortable warmth and so smooth it was almost impossible to hold on to.

He held steady while Fai lifted it to Kurogane's chest, fitted it against the hole. A light tap and it held in place.

Kurogane gasped. He instinctively lifted a hand to his breast, as had become a habit in the past few days. Skin was already forming across the hole, making the stone heart a part of him.

“How does it feel?” Fai asked.

Kurogane rolled his shoulders. His body – really, Fai's body – was adjusting to the return of his heart like a wayward child come home. “It's heavy,” he said. “A good weight.”

“A good weight,” Fai echoed. He leaned in and kissed Kurogane.

When the initial pulse of excitement and tenderness he always felt kissing Fai faded, Kurogane realized several differences: The hair between his fingers was thicker than the fine lines of silk he was accustomed to; His head was tipped up, giving him an odd sense of wrongness in the moment; and when Fai pressed against him, his body was noticeably bigger.

Kurogane pulled back when Fai's tongue flicked against his mouth. “I thought you said it was too late for robust activities?”

“For dancing, yes.” Fai's eyes glittered. “I'll always have time for you, Kuro-chan.”

The faerie clothes Fai was wearing dipped in an exaggerated V, revealing hair down to his navel. “It's perverse.”

Fai laughed. “Why else would we be doing this?”

Fai pushed him back on to the bed and took his mouth. Kurogane barely had time to register the change in position, Fai's lips pressed urgently against his own, before Fai's tongue was rimming his lower lip. Kurogane opened his mouth immediately.

He let Fai fill him, overwhelmed by the feeling of it. An arm bracketed his head. A hand traced up his side, feeling his proportions. Kurogane had never felt so surrounded. If it was anyone but Fai, he would have bucked against it, fought back.

Fai moved back a bit, chuckling. The low, warm sounds passed over Kurogane's still-parted lips.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. You always moan when we kiss. In this body, you're a bit...”

“Tell me.”

“High pitched.”

Fai kissed the flushed that appeared in Kurogane's cheeks. “It's cute. Sexy,” he amended.

“You're just complimenting yourself.”

“I am,” Fai said cheerfully. His dark features were lit with warmth, stealing the danger away from his face. Kurogane wondered which parts of himself Fai saw when he looked at Kurogane.

As though answering his thought, Fai passed his knuckles down Kurogane's face tentatively. “It's a wonder I thought I could hide anything from you when we first went adventuring. I'm realizing that my body is incapable of hiding secrets.”

Kurogane thought back to the cloaked man he had met in the rain, with a smile so charming it could only be a threat. “I didn't know you were hiding something, but I knew you were lying. I assumed it was part of the whole magician thing.”

“What part?”

“The mystery.” Kurogane thought back on his time in this world. “Now I know you just like to be a nuisance.”

“Maybe you can only see the truth when there's an honest man inside of my body.” Fai paused, turning that over in his head. When he realized the double-entente, he grinned.

“Tell me,” Fai said, sitting up straight. His lips had been bruised into a dark red and his hair was mused from Kurogane's petting. He was looking down at Kurogane. A warmth, prompted by his own self-consciousness, flushed down his body. It wasn't unwelcome.

“Have you taken good care of my body?”

“I put some muscle mass on your skinny frame. You're welcome.”

Fai laughed. “Show me.”

Kurogane shucked off pants and threw his many layers aside while Fai leered over him. The men of Celes didn't wear undergarments, and neither did Kurogane. A bit self-consciously – which didn't make sense, this was Fai's body and Fai is gorgeous – Kurogane prompted himself against the headboard of the bed. Sitting across from Fai, he was completely on display.

Fai put a hand on Kurogane's knee and Kurogane nearly groaned. Everywhere Fai touched, up and down his legs, over his arms and chest, lingering on his stomach, had Kurogane burning up. He never realized how much attention was a turn-on for Fai's body. What a little slut. He quite liked the idea.

“Everything seems to be in good working order,” Fai said. His hands slipped down Kurogane's hip bones, stopping short of their destination. “I hope you've been keeping this working well, too.”

“I... I haven't.”

“Really?” Fai was genuinely surprised. “That's the first thing I did when I was alone.”

A thousand possible scenarios of exactly what Fai did raced through Kurogane's mind. “You didn't,” he said faintly.

“It started as a bit of an experiment. I wondered if could still please your body the way I know how.” Fai cupped a hand under his pec, massaging in a gesture Kurogane knew well. He looked at Kurogane through long lashes. “The answer is yes.”

He brought Kurogane's hands to his cock. “You once bragged that you knew my body better than I do. Show me what you would do.”

Kurogane swallowed. As much as Fai looked like him, his behaviour betrayed who was really running the show. He was in a posture Kurogane would never assume, right hand on his breast, leaning into the other arm sunk into the duvet so that could come up on his knees and dip his back. He painted a picture of Kurogane with curves and dimension and sultriness. That was all Fai.

Kurogane abandoned his cock. Fai frowned. “I know,” Kurogane said, “that you like to rush things. Get on with the main attraction, as you say. But I also know that if I lay you down and kiss you sweetly, you open up in ways I could never imagine.” Kurogane's hands tickled down his side, raising goosebumps. “I'm not going to fuck your body. I'm going to make love to you the way you deserve.”

“You spoil me.” Fai came forward to kiss him. Kurogane let him. After Fai's tongue was back in his own mouth, Kurogane pressed two soft kisses over Fai's eyes. “Like that,” he whispered.

Fai hesitated. His nature in bed was the same as his nature outside of it – he was taunting, tantalizingly unyielding until he broke Kurogane down and got him into his sheets. There, Kurogane held back his aggressive side to gently spoil, softly feel. That he could force a man as violent as Kurogane into being a docile, dutiful bedmate was part of Fai's game.

And now that it was his turn to be gentle, he was lost.

“It's just... it's very... me.”

Kurogane waited. Gingerly, using Kurogane's shoulders as balance, Fai leaned forward. His lips ghosted over Kurogane's cheeks and then, with more courage, down his neck. Kurogane hummed encouragement. His fingers melted once again into soft, thick hair and he marvelled at the difference between the silken locks he usually held.

Kurogane's body warmed to the gentle affections. With his lips on his earlobe and hands under his rib cage, Fai held him at the peak of pleasure, overwhelming his sense.

And then he bent down.

Kurogane nearly stopped breathing when Fai licked the head of his cock. He suckled for a long, sweet moment before allowing himself to sink fully onto Kurogane.

The scene was surreal and appealing in a way no sensible person would ever find erotic. Kurogane was watching a mirror image of himself suck cock and he felt it, felt Fai drawing up and down, felt it in his gut when Fai flicked his eyes at Kurogane, knowing. Kurogane had no choice but to accept that Fai had thoroughly eradicated whatever was left of his sensibility.

“Reach under the pillow,” Fai said. His licked his lips, as though enjoying his own taste. Really, Kurogane knew, Fai's favourite part of sex was breaking Kurogane down until his only focus was their two bodies.

Kurogane reached under his head. His fingers folded over the object Fai had placed there earlier. It was a familiar canister. Kurogane's cock pulsed.

Fai plucked it from him. His muscles bunched as he opened it with a twist. The familiar smell wafted to Kurogane as Fai scooped out a generous amount.

Kurogane already had his legs drawn back. Fai laughed, scooping one of those long, pale legs over his shoulder. “Eager, are we?”

“I went to a wedding,” Kurogane said. “In the village. All I could think about was how much I wanted you there.”

“Is it that awkward to attend a party without me?”

“Yes,” Kurogane said. “But also – ”

His sentence broke off into a long moan as Fai rubbed two fingers over his hole. “I know,” Fai said, shushing him. He pushed his fingers in, put his mouth back on Kurogane, and Kurogane was lost again.

Because this was Fai's body, and Fai wasn't afraid to terrible things to himself, he added more than the usual two fingers he usually manipulated Kurogane with. Kurogane thought for sure he would stop at three. His blood was already rushing around his body, making him light-headed and drunk. Fai paused to get more balm and looked at Kurogane splayed open, considering.

“You don't have to push things,” Kurogane said when he finally found words again. “I'm happy where we are.”

Under the shadow of his hair, Fai's eyes glowed red. “I want you to feel what I feel.”

Fai forced Kurogane's hips up higher, so he could see how Fai's fingers were positioned, four overlapping fingers shaped like an arrowhead.

Kurogane's hips involuntary rotated, grinding against the pads of his fingers. “Will it hurt you?” he asked.

“Not me.” With excruciating slowness, Fai slid his hand inside, until his thumb lay against his bottom.

Kurogane couldn't keep his mouth shut, couldn't stop his hips from making little thrusts, couldn't stop his cock from leaking. It was as though Fai had stuck his hand in the hole in his chest, forming a fist around his heart. Kurogane had to keep looking at where Fai's hand had disappeared, making little gyrations that kept Kurogane tightening over him. The dangling lights of the ceiling congealed into a mess through his damp eyes.

Fai wouldn't stop looking at Kurogane.

He put his free hand at the base of Kurogane's dick and made another long, tempered movement from the base to the tip. Kurogane shuttered out a breath. Fai spread the wetness over his cock head with his palm. He lifted his hand and licked it.

“Is this really what I look like when you're inside of me?”

“I don't – I can't –” It wasn't fair of Fai to expect a response, not when he had Kurogane like this.

“Probably,” Fai answered himself. He expanded his fingers, a test that had Kurogane cry out. “I hadn't realized I was so... transparent.”

But because Fai was Fai, and didn't take pleasure as Kurogane did in in a drawn-out build-up, he twisted his fingers round until he found what he was looking for. He drew Kurogane into a sharp climax that had him seeing white.

Kurogane was set carefully back on the bed, and Fai left for a moment, probably to wash. He let Kurogane take his time settling back into his borrowed body, kissing at his abdomen and licking off the come.

Kurogane sat up. The tears that had filled his eyes now rolled down his cheeks. He rubbed them off with the heel of his hand. “To answer your question, yes.”

Fai laughed. He kissed Kurogane. He tasted like Fai there and Kurogane kissed back hungrily.

Fai sat in Kurogane's lap while they kissed, which he often did, but the new weight of him threw Kurogane off. He took Kurogane's hand and put it on his cock. The sight of that pale hand on his darkly flushed cock was familiar and stirred arousal in Kurogane.

Fai hummed as he was stroked. “I want to be fucked,” he said to Kurogane. “The way you always fuck me.”

Kurogane's cheeks heated. “I can't.”

Fai arched an eyebrow. “After what I just did for you?” He pressed their foreheads together. “You can do anything.”

Kurogane growled. He threw Fai back on the bed, in the same position he had occupied previously. Fai laughed, delighted at getting his way.

He had asked to be fucked in the usual way. So Kurogane assumed his usual position between Fai's open legs, massaging his thighs and mouthing at his collarbone.

“Bite down,” Fai said.

Kurogane did so, sucking to make permanent kisses scattered over Fai's chest.

“Hold me tighter,” Fai said, grinding up. “I want bruises.”

“You're cruel to me,” Kurogane said, but knew his body could take it. He pushed down on Fai's hips, pinning him even as he tried to thrust up.

“I need to take my opportunities when they come,” Fai said, looking up at him through dark lashes. “I'm never able to make a mark on you. How else will people know you belong to me?”

“I'm not propositioned by strangers like you are,” Kurogane said, thinking back on all the attention he had attracted with fair hair and lean design. Even when he hadn't wanted to, he'd courted affection with Darby.

“Is that why you're so reckless with me?” Fai asked. “So no one gets any bright ideas?”

“You ask for everything you get,” Kurogane huffed. “Literally. You tell me what you want and I deliver.”

That seemed to surprise Fai. He looked thoughtful, as though considering every other time they were in this position. “Do I?”

“Yes. You're greedy.” Kurogane kissed his stomach. “And I'm the idiot who'll do anything to make you happy.”

“Really?” That mischievous sheen was back. Fai licked his lips, as he had when he was sucking Kurogane's cock. “Then can you guess what I want now?”

He rolled his hips as though Kurogane couldn't have possibly guessed his point. Kurogane rubbed at where his leg joined his hip, hesitating. “I've never done that before.”

“Okay, but you've had fingers in your ass before,” Fai pointed out. “I know because I'm the one who put them there.”

Kurogane was forced to close his eyes, the wave of embarrassment was so strong.

“Hey,” Fai was nudging him with a leg. “Focus on me. Open your eyes.”

“Greedy magician.” Kurogane found the canister and snapped it up. He swiped through the balm and pointed the lubed-up finger at Fai. “You just want to see me suffer.”

“It is a turn-on,” Fai agreed.

“Turn around.”

Fai lay on his stomach, but twisted to be on his side. Clearly, he wanted to watch Kurogane as he worked. Kurogane put his hand on a cheek and squeezed, feeling the heavy muscle that was there. He and Fai were so well-matched in battle and so different in many ways.

He smoothed a generous amount of the balm over Fai's hole. Fai hummed. Same routine, different body. It became a bit of a turn-on for Kurogane as well, wondering if he could do as good a job pleasing Fai in a borrowed body as well as he did in his own.

He felt at Fai's entrance, petting the ring of muscle there with his fingertips. Fai's breathing began to match the pace at which he clenched and relaxed.

He put a hand around Fai's cock and just squeezed as he slid the first finger all the way in. Fai winced a bit when Kurogane stretched at his hole, but when Kurogane stopped, just said, “Go on.”

So he did. And when Fai had enough and began to push insistently at his fingers, Kurogane switched to long, smooth strokes, searching for certain pleasure points that just weren't there.

“I like it,” Fai breathed. “I thought this would feel like our first time, but it doesn't. It's like...”

“We're searching for an answer we already know is there,” Kurogane said. “Why isn't it frustrating?”

“Because we're both stubborn.”

When his fingers found the answer, Fai moaned. He was right, it was strange to hear Fai's usual noises come out rough, bit-off at the end. These were the sounds Kurogane usually made in battle and Fai was gushing them freely over the pillow.

Kurogane left Fai to get himself ready smoothing the balm down his cock. He really liked this, pleasuring himself and not feeling it in the normal way. His usual pleasure was stymied and knew, without a doubt, that Fai was the answer to his dissatisfaction.

Fai had rotated onto his back. He smiled as Kurogane pressed the head of his cock against his entrance. “I want to see you,” he said. “I want you to see this.”

Kurogane paused. “Any other orders?”

“Not for now.”

“Good.” Kurogane pushed in. He stopped, echoing Fai's moan. Kurogane's fingers dug into the backs of Fai's thighs as he pulled out and pushed in again.

Fai was gasping breath in and out. His hands were spread over his chest, dark, rosy nipples peaking through his fingers. “Suck my nipples.”

Kurogane bent his head and licked between Fai's fingers. When he got one perk, he sucked as Fai pinched the other and Fai nearly howled in pleasure.

Fai's cock was scraping against his lower abdomen, leaving streaks of wet. Kurogane was lifting his leg, had his other hand massaging Fai's shoulder. They were twisting, nearly sending them to fall on their sides, which made for a poor angle. That didn't stop Kurogane from going hard and fast, listening to Fai's grunts and loving every second of it.

He felt strangely meditative, watching Fai as he moved. His focus fell on his hammering pulse. Suddenly, everything died away and it began to be just the two of them, together.

Fai came first, his body flexing up into Kurogane's. He reached blindly upwards and found Kurogane, laying a hand on his face. Kurogane sucked in Fai's thumb and let himself break, coming into Fai.

He was still moving after he came, thrusting weakly into Fai, digging in further. Finally, Fai had to pat at his shoulder. “That's enough. We're here.”

Fai rolled them over completely so that he was on top. He kissed Kurogane several times before he loosened up enough that Fai could pull away. When Fai came off him, a streak of white rolled down the dark flesh of his inner thigh.

Kurogane covered his face with his hands, listening to Fai move stuff around, pour water, clean himself up for the second time that night. Once settled, he got up and joined Fai behind the curtain separating the washing basin from the rest of the room, kissing him fully.

Kurogane accepted the wet cloth Fai passed him. “Am I smothering?”

“Not at all. It's nice to be wanted.” Fai watched Kurogane was himself off. He seemed to like watching Kurogane, whatever he was doing, whatever form he took.

“I just can't believe...” Fai touched his bicep.

“Do you how this happened?”

Fai wouldn't meet Kurogane's eyes. And that's how he knew.

“I'm going to lay down. Bring me a glass of water,” Fai said, even though he easily could have gotten one himself.

Kurogane returned to the bed with water that Fai drank in one go and then returned for Kurogane to put away. He was laying on his back, an arm curled above his head to tap against the headboard. Kurogane lay next to him.

Lethargy of a long day of worry and two days of parties pressed their weight on Kurogane. He curled against Fai, pining him in place with his head on his chest. “Tell me, how did we end up in each other's body?”

Fai started, “First, I took off your shirt, then your pants, then I put your –”

Kurogane pinched the skin on the side of his ribs, where he knew his own body was ticklish. Fai let out a little yelp. “You know what I mean.”

“Right.” Fai rubbed the pinch mark, then rubbed Kurogane's shoulder and pulled him tight. “I'll tell you tomorrow.”

“Don't go to sleep yet,” Kurogane warned, fighting off the temptation himself. Annoyance at his lover definitely helped keep him awake.

Fai was quiet long enough that Kurogane thought the bastard really had gone to sleep. “You and I are different. I always knew that, way back in my mind, but living in your body for a few days proved it. This explains nothing.” Fai huffed. “Okay, if I told you that I insist on having all the pillows for myself and that you had to sleep on the mattress, what would you think?”

“I'm laying on you right now,” Kurogane pointed out.

“Play along.”

“Fine. I would be annoyed. And you can't use the excuse that you need all of the pillows because you're delicate. I know you aren't.”

“Yes, but what would you think?”

Kurogane frowned. “I just told you. Annoyed.”

“Annoyance is a feeling,” Fai said. “Not a thought. But you would still action on being annoyed – you'd probably push me off the bed and claim all the pillows for yourself in retaliation.”

“Definitely.”

“I'm not like that. If you hogged all the pillows, I would think the actual words 'Kurogane is selfish. He's taking all the pillows when he knows I have a delicate constitution'.”

Kurogane snorted.

“So you see? The ways we actually think are different. And for me, using words to express myself can be... dangerous.”

“Your magic,” Kurogane said.

“Yes.” Fai lifted his head to look down on him. “Did you use it?”

“A bit,” Kurogane admitted. “By accident.”

Those lips Kurogane had kissed earlier were pressed into a thin line. “The words I write, the words I speak, even the words I think are intertwined with my magic. I always have to be careful not to invoke it when I don't mean it.”

“You've never done that,” Kurogane argued.

“Wrong.” Fai ran his thumb over Kurogane's forehead, marvelling at what he was seeing, a reflection of himself in somebody else's eyes. “I have lost control in small, meaningless ways. Too minute to notice. But this time, the magic of the forest took my little mistake and made it a colossal failure.”

Kurogane thought about this while Fai rubbed his head. “What was your thought?”

Fai's movements stopped. Kurogane got up on his elbows to look him in the eyes.

“'I want him to feel my pain. He'd never say such a horrible thing again'.”

That hit Kurogane, straight in the gut. He sat up fully and put his head in his hands.

Fai followed him up. “Kurogane, I'm sorry,” he pleaded to his back. “It was an idle, terrible thought. I didn't mean it. Truly.”

Kurogane lifted his head to look at Fai. Fai's eyes were wide, his mouth open, words failing him. Or scared what to say next, Kurogane now realized. Fai was taking strong, clearing breaths. Fai was sitting in Kurogane's body, without having to worry about magic tainting his every thought.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Kurogane said honestly.

“Without me, you wouldn't have...” Tentatively, Fai lifted a hand and placed it over Kurogane's heart. “This must have hurt a lot.”

“If it stopped you from hurting for four days, it was worth it.”

Kurogane's smile spread to Fai. With a laugh, Fai flopped back into the pillows. “I thought that you'd hate me,” he exhaled.

“Not tonight,” Kurogane said, settling against Fai again. His body softened as he relaxed into sleep. “Fai,” he said sleepily.

“Yeah?”

Kurogane murmured against his shoulder. “The next time you have something to say, just say it. I can take it.”

The last thing Kurogane registered before sleep was Fai's laugh, the press of his chest under his cheek and a glorious, absolute happiness.

~~~

When Kurogane awoke, it was with a dull sensation on his chest. He lifted his hand to it. Instead, his hair fell on silky locks.

Kurogane finally opened his eyes and peered down to be met with a face-full of blond hair. Fai's head, slowly rising and falling in time with Kurogane's breathing. He kept his hand still, careful not to disturb and more than content to just watch his lover sleep.

Which didn't last long. Fai shifted, the movement waking him. He worked his jaw a bit, stared at the pool of drool he had left on Kurogane's breast, trailed up to the dopey grin spreading across Kurogane's face.

“I'm not usually on top,” Fai said.

“I'm accepting of changes.”

Fai laughed at that, a soft, croaky note of a voice still waking up. “What else can I talk you into?” His tongue peaked out to flick Kurogane's nipple.

A shiver ran through Kurogane at that. “I think...”

Fai bit down.

“That's enough talking,” Kurogane growled, scooping Fai into his arms and rolling over.

Somewhere between Kurogane nuzzling Fai's neck and Fai pushing his hips up into Kurogane's, Fai gasped that they should be quick. That the others were waiting for them, probably ready to jump to the next world. Kurogane thoroughly ignored him. He felt hungry with a rare appetite that couldn't be satisfied until he made Fai come once, twice and then a third time together.

Finally satisfied, Kurogane sighed into the back of Fai's shoulder. He nuzzled at the base of his neck and planted a kiss there, arms holding Fai to him.

“Let's hope that the next world doesn't make us ride horses like in Jade Country,” Fai said. “I couldn't sit in a saddle all day.”

“Mmm.”

“We've got to get going.”

“We're already late. It doesn't matter.”

Fai patted at the arms around his waist. “Don't go to sleep!”

“I won't,” Kurogane promised. He pulled Fai closer to him and closed his eyes.

When he opened them for the second time that morning, Fai was gone. Kurogane cursed, his good mood instantly spoiled. Until the door to the den opened and both Fai and bright sunlight temporarily blinded him.

Hands full, Fai pushed the door shut with his heel. “I told them that you had a particularly bad morning.” He paused, regarding Kurogane spread in the bed. “Although I doubt anyone's going to believe that with you looking like this.”

Kurogane reached toward the plate Fai held in one hand. Fai refilled the water basin with the jug he held in the other.

Kurogane ate ravenously while he watched Fai flitting around the room, getting things in order, laying Kurogane's uniform out. Fai already had his on, covered in the fluffy white coat that nearly overtook him.

Then Fai sat on the bed and they watched each other for a while. Fai covered his mouth. “I miss seeing you like this.”

Kurogane brushed crumbs from the side of his mouth self-consciously.

“No, I mean...” Fai took his hand. Their fingers slotted together perfectly. Kurogane's heart held a beat too long. He held tight onto Fai.

“I've never told you that I... It's not common where I come from to say...”

“Stop it.” Fai's eyelids fluttered down. His version of blushing so that he didn't look like a tomato, which is exactly how Kurogane would have described himself last night. “I know. You don't have to say the words for me to know it.” He squeezed back. “This is enough.”

“I love you,” Kurogane said.

Fai met his eyes. “I love you, too. In any world, in any timeline,” he cocked his head to the side, “in any body. I love you.”

“You always have to one-up me.”

Fai kissed their joined hands. “You love me for it.”

Fai left. Kurogane bathed as best as he could from the basin and dressed in his black uniform. The cape settled around him and it seemed so... right.

Fai had assembled the kids and Mokona. The faeries were there too, minus Fiske who was, after all, a trainee with a foot still solidly planted in Stigastr.

Sakura gave Kurogane a kind look that made him wonder how much Fai lied about his condition that morning.

“Sorry,” he said to all of them.

Syaoran shook his head. “We're just glad you're alright. Last night was wild.”

The pause went on too long as it slowly dawned for Kurogane that Syaoran was talking about the party and not what he and Fai had gotten up to when they were alone. Fai's salacious wink didn't help matters.

“Well, are you ready to go?” he demanded of Mokona to cover up the gap.

Mokona made some enthusiastic gestures that she might have stolen from Kurogane's training routine. “Mokona is well-rested, well-fed and ready to go!”

“Thank you for your help,” Fai said to the faeries.

“And to you, too,” said Gron. “This means we can start holding parties with the humans of Stigastr again!”

“I'd start slow,” Kurogane advised. “Maybe just tea.”

“We'll ask Fiske's family over,” Ylva said. “I heard her sister is recently married.”

Mokona let out a low hum. With it, she rose into the air. Here, the branches were tall and peaked like a cathedral, giving Mokona all the space she needed to soar and spread her translucent wings.

Kurogane automatically reached out and grabbed Syaoran and Sakura. Sakura, in turn, grabbed Fai.

“We've done this before,” Fai laughed.

Kurogane gulped. Words were never his speciality. His heart felt weighted, but it was a good kind of weight that kept him grounded here, with them. “I don't want to lose you four again. You're very...” he licked his lips. “You're very important to me.”

Sakura squeezed his hand.

“You're important to us, too, Kurogane,” Syaoran said. “You too, Fai.”

Fai said nothing, watching them with immense approval.

“Did you hear that, meatbun?” Kurogane yelled up at Mokona. “Because I'm not repeating myself once we land in the next world!”

“Kurogane thinks he's a trickster. He's never been able to fool Mokona,” she sang out. A blast of wind came out, rippling the grass and pushing back the faeries. As Kurogane felt his feet leave the ground, he turned back to yell his thanks at the faeries again.

Their world turned transparent and loose. Colours streamed around them like ripples on an opal. They floated through space and time to their next destination, hands tight around each other.

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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